As I write this I’m trying to hold back the tears that want to come streaming down my face.
I’m trying to control the overpowering feeling I have to just cry and cry and cry.
I feel sick in the stomach, but that isn’t new.
You know that butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling you get before a big job interview or on the night before your wedding? Well, I feel it most days.
It’s triggered by some small things- differences in opinions, over-thinking and regret leading to my anxiety taking over.
I normally sound upbeat on my blog, and I am naturally a very happy person, but I have so many dark days where hope feels lost.
For those of you who might not know, we have been waiting for news on Rabindra’s visa and there is a chance he will have to leave Australia this year.
I’m in utter pain thinking about it. Being apart is harrowing. Yes- people survive long distance relationships and the saying about love making the heart grow stronger is ringing in my mind.
But it’s bigger than that.
I feel I would have some type of serious breakdown if this happened. I’m not saying our relationship won’t survive the long distance but it will be so difficult for my wellbeing. After all we’ve been through, I couldn’t imagine being apart for possibly a year or longer as I can only stay in Nepal for so long.
Since the time our relationship started we have barely spent any time apart so I guess that’s why it seems so overwhelming.
Australia is the place I love and the place we want to settle. We’ve set up a life here and it’s amazing.
We’re good citizens and we just want the right to be together and do what other couples get to do.
But what if we’re not allowed to stay here together?
My heart aches and my body shivers just thinking about this question.
The only thing that gets me through my day of worrying and anxiety is going home, opening the door and simply being with Rabindra.
When I wake up in the morning, I look at Rabindra’s little baby face as he sleeps so peacefully and feel sick that we could be separated.
Then when you’re feeling down, all sorts of feelings enter your mind about what could go wrong and the small insecurities burst into larger-than-life doubts.
Then I feel guilty because those doubts are hurting Rabindra too.
He reassures me and tells me not to stress because it does no good. I know he’s right but I can’t help it.
I know this whole experience will make us stronger and it puts into perspective what really matters.
Things like having a shitty day at work, being poor, having a broken down car, even letting go of my dream to buy a house and travel the world seem like petty issues after being through what I’ve been through.
That’s what love can do. It pulls the heart in ways the mind can’t even comprehend.
I feel like we’ve put our lives on hold over the past year and I can’t go into detail about this here.
I need a sign that everything’s going be OK. But then again there’s no guarantees in this thing called life.
So the next time you kiss your partner, make it a long, passionate one.
Don’t fight about small things and get angry about housework or cooking.
Don’t complain that he’s watching some stupid game of cricket on TV and won’t talk to you.
Appreciate like mad that you’re able to be together and able to plan your future with some level of certainty in mind.
And for those who don’t have that certainty yet, for whatever reason, know that you are not the only one and your fears and worries are like mine.
Even after a long and stressful day at work, I’d want nothing more than to come home, see a messy house and have to clean and cook dinner for my love.
I’m sure that once we get through all this we’ll celebrate with our friends by having some wine, dal bhat and talking till late about our freedom.
We’ll buy a plasma TV and a dryer.
We’ll hug each other till we fall asleep.
And we’ll wake up in the morning with joy, not that sick feeling.
These small things, these little pleasures, are what matters.
But in this moment, right now, these are only temporary and it’s filling my heart with unimaginable anguish that I just can’t get rid of.