This week, for the first time ever, I got to feel what it was like to be the unavailable person in the relationship. This time it wasn’t bad cell service in small town venues or traveling abroad. It was dunking my phone in a toilet. For 24 hours my phone was drying out, possibly dead, in a bag of rice. Coincidentally, my husband didn’t have WiFi so he didn’t get my Facebook messages. We had no contact. Not one text, tweet or video chat. It was like touring in the 80s!
I realized throughout the day how often I call my husband. During those 24 hours I showed our son his new daycare and that’s something I would have called him to tell him all about. I bought a ton of groceries and a few things for the house. I made plans with friends (via Facebook message) and I wished I could have consulted him on some of it. But, because I couldn’t, I just rolled with it! Independent woman over here!
Normally he’s the one that’s hard to get a hold of. I have internet access and a cell phone [with a charge!] pretty much all day. It’s a disgusting balance of being independent because you can’t rely on him but still needing him there for moral support and to discuss your life with. This lifestyle requires us to be independent but doting, self-sufficient but loyal. I want to believe I’m independent and then I have trouble deciding what color sheets to buy or who to invite to dinner next week and I am reminded that he’s with me. I need him. He is a part of every mundane detail of my life regardless of the fact that he’s been on the road for over 150 days this year already. (There have been 239 days this year, for the record).
Wanna know what the first text I sent was?