Me: “…I know, that’s why I love you…”
Yep, kids. This is why drinking and dating don’t mix.
Ohhh long distance dating, you’re so fun! The first few weeks after The Boyfriend left were torture. Sheer torture. Okay fine, torture is an exaggeration, but it was really, really hard. It’s hard to go from seeing each other nearly every day to…nothing. Yes, we text and IM and Snapchat and talk and Skype, but none of that is quite as good as his arms physically wrapping me into a hug.
Before he even left we had plans for our first rendezvous. We were meeting in St. Louis, our halfway point, for a music fest on September 6th. Almost one month after he left. 26 days to be exact. 26 DAYS! That was about 25.5 days too many in my opinion. So instead of patiently awaiting our reunion, I began plotting and planning a way to shorten our time apart. Labor Day was the obvious choice. Hellooo three day weekend! Perfect! Neither of us had to take time off and we both really wanted to spend it together, so what could go wrong? Well…airlines. Airlines are what could go wrong. Apparently airlines have no consideration for lovers being forced apart and wanting to reunite because every single flight to get him to me, or me to him, was nearly $400. $400 for a one and a half hour flight! Yeah, thanks but no thanks, airlines. Driving wasn’t much better. It took more than half of our “long” weekend away from us since it’s eight hours each way. FRACK!
Never one to give into adversity, I continued on in my quest and decided to get a little more creative. What if neither one of us had to drive the full eight hours? What if we only drove half? What if we met in the middle? WHAT IF WE WENT CAMPING?! After high-fiving myself for a solid ten minutes I passed along my plan to The Boyfriend and he loved it. Success! We found a state park perfectly in the middle of us, reserved one of the last spots that just happened to be secluded away from most of the other campsites, and even the weather for the weekend switched from constant rain to one small chance of showers. Everything was perfect.
Now, a few of my friends did not seem as keen to the idea as I did. Camping? Really? No showers or makeup or bathrooms kind of camping? I understood the hesitation. Roughing it can be a bit much for some people. But not me! No way. I can totally do it! I mean, I’ve camped before, right? I’ve even camped with boyfriends before! Well, I mean…for a night or two anyway. And, we were with other people in a big group. And there were other girls there so when I needed someone to walk with me to find an adequate poo place in the dark we could go together….
Now I see what my friends are talking about. Sure, I’ve done the camping weekends before, but with just a guy? Just the two of us? No one else there? This is three solid days of nothing but me and him time, which is GREAT, but camping also meant three solid days of nothing but me and him time with no bathrooms, no showers, no makeup, no nothin’. I hadn’t seen The Boyfriend in what felt like ages, so is this really how I wanted him seeing me? I should be in a cute sundress with perfectly tousled (and clean) hair and flawless makeup. I should be able to daintily say I needed to pop into the ladies room instead of braving my fear of the dark and making bathroom dashes by myself (or worse, asking him to come with me. We are not at the ‘leave the bathroom door open’ point yet!). Goddammit, whose crazy idea was this camping business? The plan that seemed like solid gold slowly began to darken in my mind. And to top it off, the closer it got to our trip, the more the weather began to darken as well. Nothing but rain and high heat. It seemed as if the weather gods were set to act as the cherry on top of a ruined weekend sundae. Wet and make up free is not a good look on me, y’all.
I spent nearly all the four hour drive to our campsite sweating this (GREAT. Now I’ll be soaked from rain, sweaty, AND without makeup? It just keeps getting better!). But, as soon as his truck pulled up to the campsite and I got to kiss him for the first time in 18 days, everything changed. Suddenly all that mattered was a whole weekend of time with him. My hair was a hot mess, the bathroom situation was a hot mess, the weather was a hot (literally hot) mess, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was after nearly three weeks away from each other, we finally had nothing but time. And as much as it would have been great to look totally cute and put together, it actually turned out to be kind of nice to be gross and hot and sticky and less than pretty around him and know it didn’t change a thing. The weekend may have been a hot mess but, in the end, it was absolutely perfect.
Oh, and all that rain that ruined our perfect weekend? Well, let’s just say it didn’t actually ruin anything at all. Turns out, being stuck in a tent for hours on end with the boy you adore isn’t such a terrible thing. Nope, not terrible at all.