I guess I’ll start at the end.
I’m in Texas. I haven’t slept (aside from the sleep you get with your head rattling against the window of a Greyhound bus) in 36 hours.
Jess is in Canada: denied admittance to the United States at the Immigration office in the Toronto airport.
After attempting to explore every option we had and realizing that, regardless of what we did, her ability to travel here was completely dependant on the Immigration office supervisor — one man with a Napoleon complex and a small dick — we opted to send her back to her parent’s house on a bus. My mind was a marble rolling down a wire. On one side, she was going to back to her parent’s house, I was coming back here, and we’d devise a plan after some sleep and a call to a lawyer. On the other side I was going back with her, getting married this week and buying two new one-way tickets. The marble fell on the conservative side. The side that leaves me here, alone, in a cold bed on New Years Eve, and her in the exact same situation 1,000,000 miles away.
She’s safe and I’m safe. But a big part of me wishes we were still running around downtown Toronto looking for the airport shuttle pickup while trying to avoid the creepy man who thought that we were his new best friends.
As my plane left Toronto and I sat starring out the window watching the buildings become nothing more than fuzzy specs of dust, I could swear I saw her standing there, getting smaller and smaller and I flew further and futher away.
So today, on this New Year’s Eve, hold the ones you love close to you and be thankful that they are by your side.
I love you, Jess. And we’ll get this all straightened out soon.