How long is too long?

A day? A week? A month? six? A year?

500 days.

That's how long our long distance relationship is.

1.5 years.

If you think it's long, it feels longer.

The saddest part is the forgetting. Forgetting of how he smells, or how tall he is when he stands next to me, the warmth of his hand against my shoulder. Forgetting how it feels to hold hands or be enveloped in that hug.

There are other hurdles too - time difference. Oh so confusing!! And of course difficult to find free times that overlap.

The biggest hurdle is not knowing the expression of the other person. Thirteen times out of Forteen, I have no idea what his face is saying in parallel to the words I hear, or the silences I feel. Even in the one time we video call every week, it's oh-so-easy to hide your face casually, away from the small front camera, away from the small phone screen.

We prepared for this a lot though. We made a list of 50 things we'd do together over the year to stay connected. Now I don't even remember what those things were! *Quickly refers excel sheet*
Things so random - Like no watching TV days, send snail mails, cook together, learn to make things on your own and so on.

We didn't do most of them,

We did do a few - we have a shared blog that I love, we video call at least once a week, we made pizza together once, we baked together once. That's it.

We have taken trips on our own, we did learn to make new things, read books and new skills - but not as together activities. Just as things to fill our time.

What works, the only thing that works is communication. I can't stress this enough.

In a long distance relationship, you can't expect your partner to interpret your silences or hug you when you look down. You need to verbalize EVERYTHING. It's a state where some of even what is said trickles through the sieve, unresponded to. And anything that is not said is lost to the other, for no fault of theirs.

He's a talker, it was easier for him. But talking is something I had to learn to do. Sometimes, (read most :P ) he has ten things he's started talking about when I'm still trying to verbalize one. However, we learnt through this distance to listen to each other. To be there for each other from so far away.

That was what made the last 401 days so easy. That's what's making the 99 that's left look like child's play :)

Gossamer Veil

The Veil – part 1

The Wedding Veil. A delicate thing that makes one think of words like Gossamer – words I have no clue about the meaning of. Gossamer and Fairy Dust.

When you have a long time to plan a wedding (I don’t mean the years that passed by, I mean the year and a half that I have between my engagement and my wedding) there are many things that change over time.

My dress for example, which I got months back, now has a longer train amongst many other upgrades. Wait, that’s for a later post!

When I started planning my wedding look, my veil played a very small part in it. I had decided to just get some plain white tulle, add a ribbon on the edges, and DIY it. That plan met with an immediate facelift when I found glittery tulle instead of a plan one! Yaay! [Closer to Gossamer in my head – whatever that could mean ;) ]

However, that plan was shooed away in an eye blink when I saw the most gorgeous Cathedral length Veil hanging at a shop in China. The lace work on it’s side was elaborate and so delicate. I had to have it and I got it. It was beautiful.

Only problem though? It was white.

How is that a problem? My dress is Ivory.

I bought the veil anyway, and kept looking it at it occasionally – quite the sad forlorn looks too. Because it looked like I had to go back to my glittery DIY veil again, which didn’t quite hold the same allure anymore. Not next to this ethereal lace edged veil! Oh the white!

This is where Bridesmaids come in handy. I have three amazing bridesmaids. One who’s supportive of all my ideas. One who is skeptical of them and another who is neutral. Both of them are happy with the outcomes (most of the times *wink*)

So the supportive one, bless her soul, mentioned that I could have the Veil Dyed! Voila! I could have my Veil and wear it too *imagine happy piano music in the background*. But will I find someone I would trust with my fairy veil? I did. Me! Haha. I guess you understand where the skeptical one’s skepticism comes from *evil laugh*

I actually hadn’t planned on DIYing this. Not with the gossamer veil. I started with reading blogs to see if anyone else had faced similar problems, and they had (with the internet, you can find someone who’s had a similar problem even if you’re problem is that you sprouted a tail) A few bloggers & fellow DIYers mentioned that Tea Dying a veil is an easy an effective way to dye a Veil. Interesting. Find more about it HERE.

When you Tea Dye your veil, you’re not actually dying it, but effectively staining your veil. It took a lot of courage. And a lot of praying from my skeptical bridesmaid – bless her soul!- who also ensured that I didn’t jump right to the deep end, and tested sample fabrics and tulle first. It surprisingly, amazingly worked! If she’d been there with me, and seen the brown that the veil actually looked like before I rinsed it in cold clear water – she would have probably fainted. I might have too, if the instructions hadn't clearly advised that this might happen, and to not freak out. 😃😂

My Veil is now Ivory, and matches my dress perfectly.👰

Sometimes, when I see the folded veil, it looks a lot darker, with the multiple layers adding shades to it. At those times, I calmly take it out, place it on my head like how it might fall when worn correctly, and it all feels right again. Gossamery – so to say!

The End

For now. My Veil still has some work that has to be done on it. You’ll know about it when we get to it. Hehe.

PS: No pictures are being posted here, as the boy also reads my blogs, and I ain’t taking away his surprise pals!

PPS: gos·sa·mer

ˈɡäsəmər/

noun

1. a fine, filmy substance consisting of cobwebs spun by small spiders, which is seen especially in autumn.
2. 
   

How do I feel about this? 😑

Husband

A Married Man or Male Partner in a marriage.

I am going to be married in less than 4 months! Every time I think about it, I seem to have lesser time. So either I think about it too less, or time is shrinking. (I’ll leave those in the know to eye roll or smirk as they please)

The closer we get to December, the more I find people asking me “What is your Husband-to-be” doing, or something else about him.

I was very comfortable with him as my boyfriend. Then, he was my friend, confident and equal in every right.

Then he became my fiancé. After some initial adjustments, I got used to having a fiancé as well. That’s when he truly became my person. He was still my friend and confidant. However, he also became a person who could take liberties with me, give me advise and vice versa. He also became an integral part of my support system and someone whose opinion was needed, not just mattered.

Now, or soon, he will be my husband.

That sounds so much heavier as a relationship definition though. Even the word “husband” sounds stronger and gusto next to the small lesser lettered “wife”. What does it mean? I wondered. Is it derived from His+Band? Like he wears his wedding band, so hisband, husband?

Obviously, it is not that simple (or silly if you feel that’s more befitting)

If you look at the English meaning of the word, Husband is defined as “A Married Man”. Straightforward enough.

The root words and original meanings are thus:

HA!

That is a catch! Master of the household!

This, in the context that I may not be working for a corporate or generating my own source of income after I’m married (at least for a while) – it gets much more pertinent, doesn’t it? That was giving me that niggling feeling in the back of my neck.

If I’m going to be dependent on anyone, I know that I would much rather it be him than anyone else.

It’s funny.

I am looking forward to being married. Very excited about being married to him.

However, I am not looking forward to having a master of my household. No, the feminist in me abhors that. I am also, most definitely not looking forward to my professional identity expiring as my personal identity takes such a drastic change.

Will he take care of me? Without a doubt.

Will he master me? Highly doubt it. I don’t think he’ll even want to or bother wanting to.

This is just me reacting to terminologies that are not the most comforting. And what does “wife” mean? Let’s not even go there!