Dreams and Broken Promises

A year ago I mailed our application for a fiance visa to the U.S. government. I had thought by now my fiance would be my husband, that we would we living together, figuring out how to live together, while I finished my master’s degree.

I was wrong.

We were sitting in the bus last August, shuttling from terminal one to terminal two, and we promised it would never again be a full six months apart from each other.

We were wrong.

I don’t think people realize how difficult it is to spend sixty percent of your relationship just trying to be able to live together in the same country, in the same house. But “difficult” isn’t even the right word–the paperwork is overwhelming, but after a few dozen hours of reading, it’s more time-consuming than anything else. The bulk of the process has been given to waiting, which is annoying, but you get used to it.

For a long time I was burdened by generalized anxiety disorder without diagnosis. It took three different prescription medications to make me realize what it’s like not to constantly be under high levels of physical distress. I was used to the tightness, the racing thoughts, numb to the unmanageable excess of stress I experienced.

Numb like I’ve become numb to the distance between us. Sometimes two weeks pass and we don’t say a word to each other beyond liking statuses on Facebook. We’re so accustomed to thin lines of communication that when life demands homework and research papers and teaching hours and travel times, there isn’t time left for each other.

At least if we lived in the same house, hell, even just the same timezone, the overlap in our schedules would be easier to manage. I don’t even know what it’ll feel like waking up next to him, saying goodbye before we part ways to go to work and school or whatever, without that counter in my mind ticking down and telling me I need to hold on, I can’t let him go, because there’s only a handful of days before we’re apart again.

There was a time when I thought Harel would be moving up here last August rather than me flying back from visiting him. There was a time when I thought he’d be here for New Years, or at least before classes began. There was a time I thought he’d be here by spring break, but now I’m not even sure if he’ll be here before summer begins.

But who knows, maybe I’ll be wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time.

GFM sidebar

Harel and I are fundraising to help cover some of the costs of his coming to the US. With my being in graduate school and the moving costs to join Teach for America later this year, the financial demands of this journey have been no small burden, and we are grateful for any support you’re able to offer.

Please make a donation and share our GoFundMe page or these TBT posts to help.

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Throwback Thursday

The year began with promise: We’d have our visa interview and then my fiance would fly up to the US and we’d be married.

Instead we found a clerical error on his passport, and the whole process came to a grinding (albeit temporary) halt.

So in the mean time, it’s my goal to dedicate every Thursday of this year until we have our visa interview to looking back at some of the moments he and I have shared.

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Hypocrisy on High

Just yesterday I renounced New Year’s resolutions and goal-making in general, but it’s been shown that creating New Year’s goals is a great start to achieving them (and not setting goals is a surefire way to miss the mark entirely). I’m still sticking to my systems, but there are a number of outcomes I’m aiming at in 2016.

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Memoirs at 1,600 Miles

Today marks three months from our NOA1, the date that marks the receipt of our fiance visa petition. We’ve raised almost five percent of our goal, and it’s heartwarming to see so much support. June 3, 2015.

* * *

It’s been a few days since our last update because there hasn’t been much to report.

However, I’ve been writing letters to representatives and talking with other visa petitioners, discussing ways we can try to eliminate the processing time delays between service centers. Realistically, our efforts may have no impact on our own timelines, but perhaps we can make the system more equitable for those who follow.

* * *

The past few nights in NC have been stormy and they’ve reminded me of the first time Harel and I met.

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A Moment of Gratitude

Aside

Today I’m grateful to be in love with a man who I support unconditionally and who supports me just the same. I’m thankful to live in a country that recognizes our relationship and allows us to obtain a visa so he can move here and we can live together. And I’m thankful for the small number of amazing people who have donated to help us cover these costs.

Will you take a moment to make a small contribution? Just click here.

Bittersweet Birthday

In math we study functions of time: a system in so many dimensions dependent upon another for change, growth, dynamic behavior. Life is one such function of time, but no mathematics yet known is enough to model it. Life escapes the linear, falls squarely into the chaotic, and leaves us all wondering and questioning in every moment.

Yet some things are certain, and these equilibrium points change everything.

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