He who matures early lives in anticipation.

I surprised myself today with a random memory from when I first arrived in Germany last March. I had just picked up my rental Audi, and stopped off at a secluded rest stop just outside Frankfurt. It was just a breathtaking view — the lot overlooked a cliff, and I marveled at the bright green hills of the countryside. I also needed a mini travel nap. I was surprised that I could even sleep in the car in the middle of nowhere, and I cannot seem to relax enough on flights. I looked over to my passenger — soon-to-be Mr. 10SB. I was excited for this trip. For both of us.

And that is what this post is about: anticipation. And normally how it fades and everything goes to shit. No –I promise I have worked through my jadedness.

What are you anticipating in your current relationship?

For a brief moment — even so early in our relationship — I wished 10SB was “someone else” in that passenger seat. I was deeply content, but not deeply satisfied and probably pretty fucking miserable of a bitch. Obviously, I hadn’t quite moved on from SSD while I was with 10SB. Unfair to both of us probably, but I was in a fabulous rut and getting laid was nice decent. I am a horrible ex-girlfriend. Whatever, I got my karmic milkshake when he dumped me.  After we broke up, I anticipated somehow rekindling (once again) with SSD. He was the first person I texted too. That’s fucked up — I know. As I brutally learned again, anticipating this bastard as a potential was a large, depressing sinkhole.

In dating HG, there is a continuous cycle of anticipation — being that he is long-distance — I am always giddy when I hear he is coming into town a little early or changing his schedule to my preference so that I don’t have to wait over a week to see him until after Christmas. I anticipate introducing him to my friends, so they can register him on the Bullshit Scale. I anticipate looking all hot for him on New Year’s Eve. And I giggle constantly because I am just… thrilled.

And with that, vacations and traveling together (with our without anticipation) is “one of those steps” in a budding relationship. (Thankfully, not a three-day road trip adventure with Psychotically Unpredictable). Currently, in the process of planning my first vacation with HG, I’m really frenzied and probably drooling anticipation. And there has not been one single moment when I wished it to be anyone else.

Now, THAT speaks volumes about good relationships. I mean, this is how it’s supposed to be, right?

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