It’s always green somewhere in the world–only never where I am.

I have lived my life holding strong to the mantra “the grass is always greener on the other side of the hill.” I don’t mean to do this; I know it’s totally fickle of me, and nobody likes a fickle woman {though some in my acquaintance would profess that “fickle woman” is totally redundant}.

Only in my case, the grass is always greener on the other side of the border. Any border. I always want to be wherever I’m not–it’s a wretched affliction, truly. During July, outside of Arizona the grass will surely be greener. But amidst the frigid Canadian winters, there’s no place I long to be more than my lush green City of Mesa.

It doesn’t just have to do with the weather, however. When I am living the life of a single wife, visiting friends and family in Arizona, I miss Poor Kyle terribly and can hardly wait to see him again. But inevitably, as I re-pack my bags the night before I’m scheduled to return to his country, I once again mourn the loss of my family. I have two families, you know, and both of them love me so very much.

I would that everybody’s trials could be so simple as deciding which loved ones to visit.

Of course there’s really no question: I married Poor Kyle and now I’m stuck with him (hello dear!). I am stuck with him, but the phrase “stuck with” implies that it’s against my will. I should say I’m stuck to him [but actually, that sounds a little less G-rated than I normally try to keep this blog. Dang]. Well at any rate, he and I will “be an item” forever, and not once have I regretted my choice to be his wife. *Mushy alert: I love him more with nearly every day that passes. I never even knew that having an understanding, calm and patient disposition would be a requirement of the man I married–it just happened that way, and I can see now it was absolutely necessary. In case any of you noticed, I’m not exactly the easiest person with whom to live. And that’s the understatement of infinity.

I only wish that “cleaving unto my husband” as is preached in the Bible, didn’t require to take me so far away from everyone else I dearly, dearly love.

I’m lucky I’ve been able to come down and visit so frequently this past year. To everyone I was able to bond with for the last two weeks: Thank you. I love you. I’ll miss you. To those of you who I wanted to spend more time with, but was forced–for one reason or another–to neglect: I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll miss you. And to anyone else who had hoped to meet/see/visit me and was totally shafted by how busy I was {I really don’t know any person more vain than myself, to think of a whole city full of people who are sad they didn’t get to see me this month}: I regret that, too.

Maybe for Christmas…

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