Goodbye, dear wife.
Relative to the length of our history, and the likely long future ahead of us, I won’t be gone long. Only eight months on the other side of the country, twenty-seven hundred miles away. I fear for your struggle. I fear for you. We’ve experienced many five, seven, and even twenty-five-day separation, and they haven’t gone well. Eight months is a long time. The early days will be very hard, but as always, I am confident you will surprise yourself with your strength. A strength I've always seen, bright as the sun, that for some reason only you can’t see. On January 5th, I will be starting my first day of the eight-month job, far away. Eleven days later, we will spend our eleventh wedding anniversary over twenty-seven hundred miles apart. Then the same distance for your birthday on the 23rd. This won’t be easy. I concede, I’ll handle the distance well. Distracted by adventure and exploration. New relationships, new challenges, new rocks to uncover, new smells. As you (painfully) know, I thrive in solitude. I rest there and recover there. I know you struggle with this part of myself. Resent me for it, at times. I promise though, you are needed. I need you and I am so proud of the person you have become. This time and distance, I am thinking, will be good for us. Perhaps we are both feeling that the timing of this trip could be soothing. Maybe while I’m gone, I will recharge fully. And come back with a shored-up foundation and ample energy to support you how you need and deserve. Maybe the eight months will be a challenging opportunity for you to care for yourself. Work for yourself! Love and admire yourself. You MUST take care of yourself, mi amor. For me. For you. For us. Geographical separation does not mean you’re alone or that you’re not on a team. We are forever a team. I will miss you deeply. I have never witnessed an example of strength and resilience equal to yours. Right away, all those years ago, I recognized it. You can do this! You are a fighter, in nearly every sense of the word.
Con amor y paciencia,
Amorcito