I have to somehow manage emotionally to survive until February 17, when Pat O’Brien gets here. Somehow, I think I will find a way, but it still stinks. I just don’t think I will ever get used to being apart. Just because I’m not curled up in the fetal position crying my eyeballs out doesn’t mean that I don’t think of him every waking minute (and sometimes when I’m dreaming). Trust me, I do. But definitely I’m not USED to it.
When I think of being used to something, I think of finally coming to terms with it so that it no longer bothers you or comes to the for front of your mind on a regular basis. I’ve gotten used to the fact they don’t have canned green beans here – I’ve moved on, I’m OK with it, and most days I don’t even think of it! I’m still not OK with the fact that the man I love to hold is over 2000 miles away!