bleak and pretty

There's a whole lot of beauty and meaning in life, waiting to be uncovered.

I got my period like, two days ago.

If I wasn't with my mom, siblings, and not coming home to an adorable kitten, I would probably be crying, torturing myself, asking the heavens, “Why couldn't I get pregnant when we've been trying so hard for the past four months?”

Now I'm pretty certain that I'd been taking birth control for nothing.

But, hey, four months isn't a big deal. Some couples try for years before successfully starting a family. And they say you're supposed to try for like, a whole year, before you can be diagnosed with infertility.

One year, okay, easy-peasy — except my partner and I live 500 miles apart.

I don't even feel him anymore.

It sucks when your love language is physical touch and quality time. How do you find room for expression in a long-distance relationship? We don't even manage to talk on the phone for stretches of hours anymore. Yesterday, we barely talked. I spent half the day at a dental clinic with my mom, took a few hours nap, then came home to my apartment only to go back to work.

I called but he wasn't picking up, twice.

I was like, “What are you up to? Are you guys drinking again?”

No response. Nada. Not even a “goodnight” on Messenger.

I kind of just assumed that he fell asleep on me, or maybe he's mad. Maybe they're really drinking or doing some “guy things”. Or doesn't want to talk. Or has forsaken me.

And I'll be like:

Fuck you, you fucking fuck. I'm not going to give you a call tomorrow or send you any message, any update, or anything. You don't fucking deserve my attention! How dare you not answer my calls or leave a message! You didn't even fucking say goodnight — where the hell is your time for me and our relationship!

Sigh. There's many ways to fuck up a relationship, yet there's only one way to pull it through – patience.

And by being patient, you have to give someone the benefit of the doubt and believe that their interest is for your own good — even if what's happening shows otherwise and you're confused as hell.

So I'm just hoping that he did fall asleep perhaps waiting for my call, that he wasn't wasted or anything, that he wasn't doing something that would make my blood boil.

After all, the reason he was where he was last night was me – I had asked him to transport my surf board to the spot we'll be surfing in July.

(okay, 180-degree turn here)

My toes are gonna be hitting the sand again, and I'll be doing what I'm living for.

I should be excited. My upcoming surf trip means that I have to hit the gym asap, eat better, practice swimming, and make sure that I can still paddle out and catch a wave.

All in all, get my shit together. Be in top shape. Focus on skincare.

I shouldn't be sulking because of calls that weren't answered and messages that weren't sent. There's a whole lot of beauty and meaning in life, waiting to be uncovered. I have the cuddliest kitten in the world. The nicest apartment I've lived in for years. And I can eat a cheesecake or sushi or baked salmon pretty much whenever I want.

And it doesn't matter whether I'm having mild cramps because of my period, a little sleep deprived, or still waiting for all my big plans to happen.

I'm awesome because I have this big spirit that never fails in the midst of tragedy.