If you've been following my blog for any length of time, you know that I'm not exactly the passive-type. I tend to voice my opinions quite strongly (at least online) and when I'm upset/mad/disappointed, you'll know it.
Which is exactly why I feel the need to apologize to my neighbors for my big noisy fuss the other night (remember, paper thin walls).
Reality has finally sunk in that I'm not on an extended vacation, and won't be headed back to Bourbonnais next week. This is our new home. The excitement of moving and getting settled has worn off, but we haven't made any significant connections yet. I know getting established and making friends takes time, but it's really hard to be patient when I spend 8+ hours a day by myself.
It also doesn't help when the Man is constantly busy with volunteer work, autopsies, ride-alongs, and speciality training. It feels like he's all I've got and when he's gone....life gets lonely. He's made friends and his job is so new and exciting, he doesn't have time to be bored. As a good friend once said, I'm like a puppy when he gets home: "Hi! I missed you! Come talk to me and play with me and keep me busy! I love you!" Poor guy doesn't know what hit him.
So I threw a big noisy fuss. Being the loving husband that he is, he held me close and just let me cry. He knows it's hard on me, but he also knows that it's going to get better. He kept telling me that everything is going to be ok and it won't always be like this. Although at the time, I just wanted him to own up that all of this is his fault; following his dream and dragging me down here. Oh well.
But really, I know that things will get better and it will just take time. The transition is harder than I thought, but I'll get through it. The Lord has been and will continue to be faithful to us. I just have to learn to make new friends. Welcome back to 2nd grade, Ramona....