Waiting for Godot

ship in the bay - sf - saad bhamla

It’s been more than a year with Genya now. I don’t know exactly when it started. It’s difficult to say. It’s sort of all blurry. I want to say September. But feels like it began in the summer.

I’ve been thinking about this for some time now.

We’ve packed quite a lot in this year. Bunch of races. Meeting parents. Culture shocks. Reverse culture shocks. Quals. Conferences. Numerous road-trips.  A round-the-world trip.

Looking back, everything seems to have seamlessly fit in. It all seems like it meant to be now. I wonder if someone would have believed me if I had told them a year ago that I would travel to so many countries in one year. And that too with Genya.

It’s difficult to explain. I can’t tell you what is right when she’s around. But I can tell you that is a sense of satisfaction. A sense of completion. A feeling of secureness.

I have grand ambitions for my life. I have numerous goals. And they all make sense. But somehow they feel jaded by themselves. I enjoy time by myself. And all the road trips by myself are fun. And all the running. And biking. But I have to admit, after a while, I need to stop and ask myself, what’s the point?

Life with her has been full of ups and downs. But it’s been interesting to solve the problems. I don’t look forward to the problems. Or the fights. Or the lengthy discussions. But I can’t help feel excited when I look back. At this deep foundation we’ve built. It’s nice to have to something. So what, if it’s so intangible.

I’ve had previous relationships. They’ve been a 5k, a 10k. A half-marathon at the max. But this one, this relationship with Genya, has to be a full marathon. I can recount the number of times I’ve given up and started walking. The times I’ve felt a high and sprinted. Only to realize I still had miles to go. And the thing is, my mind can keep saying that I can quit and just walk out, but I know deep down, I have to cross the finish line. Even if I have to crawl. And crawl I have. And it goes for both of us.

But unlike a race, there is no finish line. There is no medal at the end. There is only a mile marker here and there. A milestone ahead. A failure behind.

And time flies in a race. Ask any runner if they feel bored during the 4-6 hours they spend running a marathon. And they’ll say they didn’t even notice how the time flew.

Similarly time just flies when she’s around. She’s been away for a week now. I can’t believe how much time I’ve had. I’ve been super productive in various things.

But at the same time, I wonder, boy, do I have a lot of time or what? What do I do with all this time? There is only so much work I can do.

And now, it’s 45 minutes till her flight arrives. And time seems to crawl grudgingly slowly.


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