Half-way through a bottle of wine and a really good session pouting...

We had a long-distance relationship for almost two and a half years, and the last year of that was our first year of marriage.

He was in med school in Texas and I had my heart set on St. John's College in Santa Fe for grad school. Though I have never once regretted the decision, to say it was brutal doesn't begin to scratch the surface. We tried to see each other at least once a month, even if it was only for one night, but that was not always possible. However, we made it through, and I have often credited the strength of our relationship to that experience. Fast forward four years, and you find us done with grad school and medical school, living in Biloxi, MS while he plods through residency. You would imagine, or at least I have been told enough times, that the years apart should have prepared us. You would think that, over time, the long-distance thing would be a piece of cake. They didn't, and it isn't.

Today he left on a plane again. We got two days together after a four-week separation, and now we have 2 more weeks apart. He was in Ecuador on a humanitarian mission and I have been traveling for work as well. When he left last month to go help thousands of people who do not have easy access to medical care, I could not have been more proud, or more like a two-year old that just accidentally let go of her balloon.