driving away at the end of the day

Saturday was a good day. It involved sleeping in, brunching, HomeGoods-ing, and even some Michael Buble singing while packing (me singing, Freddie eye rolling). 

But then around four o'clock Freddie drove off headed on his journey to Houston. 

Just like that, he was gone. I knew for two weeks this day was coming and I especially knew it was coming all Saturday morning and afternoon. It was the sense of urgency as I ate (read: devoured) my Eggs Benedict. It was the anxiety as I walked around a crowded HomeGoods (crowded meaning the entire population of Mt. Pleasant). It was the fluttering butterflies in my stomach the whole time I was singing The summer wind, came blowin' in from across the sea... all while trying to get Ricky to dance with me. Knots in your stomach+dancing+singing+packing+eating a chocolate chip cookie = total multitasking.

I held it together and was such a lady, let me tell you. No tears. No sad eyes. No pouts. Just lady-like smiles and hugs and hand holdings. We ladies wouldn't want to ruin our hair and make-up just by showing emotions, am I right?

But then after a long drawn out goodbye, and another 10 extra hugs and kisses, and one more Byeeeeee! yelled out from Freddie as he drove away I lost it. 

Lost it like a freaking baby. I realize three and a half weeks is nothing when it comes to the grand scheme of time, but in that moment, the moment when this humongous, ginormous, grandiose life change officially began, I didn't care that it will only be three and half weeks until I'm there in Houston with Freddie. In that moment all that mattered was the boo hoo-ing. He's gone. This is the place where we came after the honeymoon. This is the place where we started our married life. This is the place where we walked on the cobblestone streets, sat on the beach, and brought friends to our favorite bars. This is place where we ordered lasagna pizza and bought cheap Trader Joe's wine for the best date nights ever. This is home. 

After a good 90 seconds I pulled myself together and heated up some roasted sweet potatoes to eat. You see, that's the thing about Freddie. He knows how much I am obsessed with these roasted sweet potatoes so he made extra and put them in tupperware in the fridge. It's like he knew I would turn into a basket case for 90 seconds and would need some sweet pots. It's like he wants me to turn into a giant orange colored blob. It's like he takes care of me. Weird. 

As I ate my sweet, sweet, roasty toasty potatoes I realized that I was crying happy tears, too. Happy that this is all working out. Happy that we get to be happy together. Happy that we are living life and experiencing new things and places. Happy that I can say YOLO about this big cross-country move. Happy that I can make Don't Mess With Texas jokes and act like I'm a Texan. 

So I guess my point is that Saturday was really a good day after all. Because guys, you can totally be sad and happy at the same time. You can! It's called life, so let's live it. 

Now go eat some sweet potatoes and thank me.
side note: I also bought some cereal and milk to survive off of, so you know. I'm rocking this single life thing.