patience was never my strong suit

K gets back tomorrow. A long summer of not seeing her filled with brief interludes of meeting up in random cities (New York, D.C., Montreal) and finally we'll be back in the same city, forever and ever, amen. Okay, maybe not forever but compared to what it's been, it'll seem that way.

It's been a great summer in many ways. I've rediscovered parts of myself that I'd forgotten or at least neglected, such as my desire to listen to music all day, everyday (K prefers NPR in the mornings and afternoons; it's a quiet battle compromise over the stereo). I've been playing lots and lots of music, recording more, writing new songs, etc. I've also been forced to be more social, break out of the patterns and I've met some new, dear friends.

But I'll be honest: I'm a person who does better with a partner. When left to my own devices, my own thoughts can start to reverberate inside my skull, echoing and amplifying until they drown out the real world. Chaos and fantastical surreality ensue and that is rarely a good thing. Frankly, I need someone to verbally slap me upside the head on occasion and say, "Wake up to yourself!!" and a partner is often very good at playing that role.

So, three months older and wiser, we come back together, on the eve of our fifth anniversary of dating. To say I'm excited would understate by such a degree I won't even bother. Let's just say that I reached a low point today where I didn't think I could make it until tomorrow to see her. Tomorrow!! I know, I know. But I've managed to distract myself by recording some more music, drinking some Founder's Dirty Bastard scotch ale, and reading some weblogs.

Pseudo-singledom is dead! Long live the merge.