Monday, May 23, 2011
Mumbai. A city I’ve grown to love because the man I love lives there. Period! Three years ago I left home, didn’t take up my first amazing job offer and slogged it out in an alien city doing a job I hated – all for the sake of love. I would never let my children be so stupid, that I guarantee you dear reader. I was stupid; I don’t know what I was thinking. But my stupidity paid off. I am the happiest woman in the whole world now.
I had a refreshing five day break in Mumbai the past week – my millionth trip to the city by the way and on the flight enroute Mumbai, guess which movie I saw? ‘Going the Distance’ It’s a rom-com about a couple who try to make their long distance relationship work. Relationships are a bitch. It either fucks you over completely or makes you feel like a billion bucks. Throw long distancing to that equation and it’s a living nightmare. Poopie and I (Yes, we call each other Poopie. Don’t ask how. I don’t remember the details too well either) have spent so much time apart that when we are together for the first two days I’m a little disoriented. It takes time for it to sink in that I’m finally in a functional adult relationship and it’s not ending. Ever! Even if we have the worst fights, I know we’re for life.
I’ve had my share of non-relationships. I’ve met the slimey kind, the stinky kind, the musician kind, the smart alec kind, the pervert kind, the God complex kind and the just plain jerk kind. Poopie’s not perfect either, but he’s perfect for me. He accepts me with all my flaws which would include (1) my violent mood swings, (2) my not so great social skills (he is super friendly and has an army of best friends) (3) my perennial hunger and then guilt for binging just to name a few.
I hate leaving Mumbai and I hate (right up to the bottom of my toes) leaving him behind. Without Poopie my life is in shades of grey. I hate dolling up. I lose interest in food. I hate just being happy. I’m tired of missing him and I’m tired of long-distancing.
We have a three year plan which I don’t want to mention now. The ball is in motion and we’re chasing it. Once we get there I will blog about it. It will be titled, “The Victory Dance”.