Patterns of acceptance

Southern California has a weather pattern in late spring.  Foggy overcast mornings created by a thick marine layer that gets trapped by the mountains.  The sun eventually breaks through by late afternoon.  The media has come up with their little catch phrases.  In May it's called "May Gray." In June, it's called "June Gloom."  There is no difference between the two other than the name. The result is always the same; thick overcast clouds in the morning breaking away to warm sunshine in the late afternoon.

When I first moved here, I had a hard time with this weather pattern.  By the time the sun came out in the late afternoon, it felt like too much of the day had passed to do anything.  The gloomy, or gray weather depending on the month, was quite depressing.

This morning, when I woke up to the deep marine layer, I thought, "It will pass."  I've been here long enough to know that soon the pattern will break and we will be blessed with some pretty spectacular weather.  I don't like it, but I know it's not forever.

I thought about our relationship pattern.  I don't like when we are apart, especially for extended periods of time.  Like the skyline of Southern California, my mind goes to some gloomy and gray areas.  I have the comfort and experience in knowing that like the May Gray and the June Gloom, this too will pass.  Soon you will be in my arms and the sad, gloomy days will be forgotten.  

Just like the late spring season in Southern California, I don't like our separation, but if not for the gray, I might take the every day for granted.

An email, a phone call, Skype, and now blog postings from you are my late afternoon sunshine breaking through the fog.  All these in anticipation for our glorious summer weather.  Is that too much of an expectation?  I don't care.  Having you in my arms is the only weather forecast I care about. 

I love you my baby.