Date: 2008-05-11
To: Letter from Ohio
Miles today: 0.0

Aloha. This is Troutbum's girlfriend writing. I have often wondered how the others did it, the ones left at home, while their loved ones went off for their big adventure on the Appalachian Trail. After almost 8 weeks with Tom (Troutbum) on the Trail, I'm not sure I have much more insight than I did when I was just guessing. Honestly, it's hard, most days. Especially lately, when I've been sick and wanting and needing TLC, and my b.f. is hundreds of miles away, doing his own thing, on a mission of sorts, and I'm feeling lonely & miserable & overwhelmed with my life & my responsibilities. Then the long-distance phone calls begin to feel less like welcome moments of connection & more like unwelcome intrusions & demands for attention & support. This is not Troutbum's fault. He is a good, kind man. He always asks how I'm doing, how's work, school, etc. He tells me that he misses me, fills me in on his days on the Trail, lets me feel a part of things as much as he can. Some days this is enough. Most days, it isn't. It's hard being apart from my lover, even though we already lived apart in Ohio ... ours has been a long-distance relationship from the get-go. But it was easier, somehow, when we were both working too many hours for too little money, both trying to make ends meet, both pushing aside other commitments in order to make sure we could get some solid time together, a weekend here, a day there, a holiday once in a great while. Now it's been over a month since I've seen him & I've had to break our "date" for Trail Days in Damascus, b/c I'm just too goddamned sick & tired. Tired of 18-hour days at school, doing work & classes & writing papers & researching until my eyes are crossed & playing video games or visiting facebook or something else semi-mindless in order to unwind. Sick with sinus infection, allergies, chronic stress, depression, who knows, I don't even care what it's called anymore. I just know that I feel like a rechargeable battery that won't recharge anymore. I know that Tom is working hard where he is, too, that doing the A.T. is something that he's worked very hard to get to do, that he knows it is a privilege as much as it is a pain in the ass; just as I know I'm lucky to have a home and a bed and hot & cold running water & electricity every night. And I also know that sometimes a series of long-distance phone calls just doesn't do it. I miss my boyfriend. I miss talking in person. I miss holding hands & kissing & snuggling while watching movies. I miss knowing he's only 2 hours away & if push comes to shove, one of us can get to where the other is. The only "wisdom" I have at this point is an old adage that my friends keep reminding me of, when I forget it, which is often: One Day At A Time. It's brief & annoying and yet true, the ways those damned adages usually are, in that it sums up the truest conception of our lives, we live them one day at a time, and when life gets tough, I have to take it in manageable bites (which are sometimes quite a bit shorter than days, but lately days are pretty manageable, for which I'm terrifically thankful). Most of all I know that it's a challenge, but not necessarily an obstacle, and that it takes being real, and awkward, and just keeping on trying. If others have words of wisdom to share about their separations during their loved ones' hikes, I'd love to read them. I know that what works for me won't necessarily work for the next person, and vice versa, but I also know that it generally helps me a great deal to know that I'm not alone in what I'm feeling and doing, no matter how differently my compatriots & I might choose to cope with these similar things. I'm especially grateful that the two men who were shot seem to be healing from their assault & that the hikers and other visitors to the Trail are safe again. Mahalo & Aloha for your Kokua ~ Holly in Ohio, Troutbum's girlfriend