My boyfriend’s departure has been pushed back due to visa issues. (He got rejected for a renewal here in the UAE, which is unfathomable to me, the golden-ticket-American-passport-holder.) It will be sorted, insha’allah, but it might be too late for him start this term. He still plans to go to Turkey anyways, to help his brother who’s already there find a better apartment.
Last night was our one-year anniversary. Our friend bought us drinks and said “Happy anniversary” and we both responded along the lines, “Oh yeah, that’s today. Oops.” Then our friend went to drive his friend to her car, and we were left alone, facing the mix of a year of bliss and the impending, inevitable end of it all. And my boyfriend was highly upset by life, which he cursed. And he kept telling me I know nothing (and we both added, “Jon Snow” and smiled for a moment.) And he didn’t want to talk about what I didn’t know.
So I made up a story about a boy and his pet rock, Theo, to distract him. It would make a wonderful children’s book. I make up stories for my boyfriend so often that I really should go into the children’s book writing thing. Although I’d probably make them more Arab than the versions I tell my boyfriend. To promote cultural diversity or something. I’d sell it to the publishers more eloquently, of course. Wish me luck in my endeavors.