My fiance and I are a binational couple and we’re entrenched in the process of obtaining a visa so he can come to the US (can you lend us your support?), but it’s a long process–mostly because of mismanagement (because if there’s any other reason why one USCIS service center can do the same job as the other in a tenth of the time, they haven’t told us what it is), so–me given the advocate I am–it seems an awesome place to start a movement.
There’s a strange sequence of events that flourishes with any venture between deadlined tasks. We are harried and rushed for release, then harried and rushed for return. In the midst of this tumult I find myself now, pacing and aching in any number of ways and directions at any given moment. I feel akin to a vector turned into a field, a being capable of but one magnitude and direction in an instant but suddenly forced to move outwards with no aim in sight.
It started simply enough, I told myself. There would be time. So much time.