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First America Holiday
Five months had passed since Marco and I were last together. Much had happened during this time. For the first month or two
things were wonderful and we continued to grow closer. However somewhere around the third month, the strain of being apart
was getting to me. I started questioning everything that Marco did and didn't do. I was finding fault in just about anything I
could. By the fourth month it was almost unbearable. I was making myself miserable. I knew he would be here within a month,
but if it weren't for the fact that he already had purchased his ticket, I would have told him not to bother coming at all.
We barely got to see each other online anymore. He was working late every day to earn extra money for while he was here on
holiday. And when he wasn't working, he was too tired to get online. He kept telling me that he was working hard so that we
could have a nice holiday together. I understood that, but it still bothered me, a lot. Online was all we had. It's not like we were
together and I would at least get to see him for 5 minutes in the morning or talk to him for a few minutes at night. Instead we
would go days without talking. The more time that passed in between conversations, the angrier I became. And when we would
finally get a chance to talk, I would spend the majority of the conversation being pissed at him. I tried many times to explain to
him that if things didn't change, he would be working hard for nothing. Because the 'us' that he was working so hard for, would
be gone. But he never seemed to understand what I was telling him. During the last month or so before Marco came, not a single
day went bye when I was not angry with him. This relationship was in no way, shape or form, fun anymore. The only reason I
stuck this out was in hopes that once he came to America and we were together again, that things would finally go back to
normal.
For the most part, on the day he was arriving I was happy. Although the feelings of disappointment and anger were still
lingering around. I had tried and tried, but nothing was making them go away. But I just kept them inside and tried to let the
excitement of being with him again take over. My nephew James was coming with me to the airport to pick up Marco. Marco
and him have this little bond going. They have talked on the phone many times. Marco tells James of all the evil things he did as
a child, and James says he wants to be just like him. James can do no wrong in Marco's eyes. For that matter, neither can Tyler
(James' younger brother). Marco just laughs and calls him the cute little devil boy. Anyway, James and I went to the airport
about an hour early and waited for his plane to arrive. He wanted to make a big sign and hold it up to embarrass Marco. I
should have let him do it, but said no. He was so cute the whole time we were waiting. He kept staring out the window
practicing how he was going to say hi to Marco when he met him. He was definitely more excited than I was.
When the plane arrived at the gate we waited for Marco to come walking out of the hallway. James actually recognized him
before I did. He came walking out with jeans, a jeans jacket, baseball hat, and sunglasses on. Now mind you, it was about
9:00pm, so the sunglasses kind of threw me. Not to mention I had never seen him wearing sunglasses before. Anyway, there he
was. James was all smiles and excited. And I have to admit, for a brief moment all the bad things that had happened during the
past month or so went away and were replaced with pure happiness. Only for a moment though.
Marco walked up, stuck out his hand to shake mine, and said, "hello". Huh? So I took his hand, said, "What the fuck is this
handshake shit?" and gave him a kiss hello. As he shook James' hand I noticed his left ring finger, and the ring that was on it!
Ummm hello?! I grabbed his hand and asked him what the hell this ring was for. He just said, "Oh nothing, its a ring. Why?"
Now I realize that our cultures are different in many ways, but a ring on the ring finger of the left hand is the same in Holland as
it is in America. So I told him that it means he's friggin married, and asked him where he got it and why he was wearing it on
that finger. He said, "No reason, I just bought it. I'll change it." I just shook my head, made a disgusted face, and said, "Good"
as he moved it to his right hand. This sucked. I knew I should be excited, but every feeling of insecurity and anger was now
coming through loud and clear. For months I had told myself that he found someone else, and this damn ring sure as hell didn't
help matters.
The three of us talked a little as we walked outside so Marco could smoke before going to get his luggage. James was still
super excited and I was trying desperately to be happy. Idle chitchat is pretty much the extent of what our conversation was. How
was the flight? Did you eat well? Did you sleep? Did you find your way ok in Chicago? etc. We eventually got his luggage and
started our drive home. We were going to drop James off at his home, let Cathi and Jim (my sister and brother in law) meet
Marco, and then go to my friend Brian's house for a drink. We had to leave for our road trip to Florida by 8am the next
morning, so we would not be able to stay in any one place very long. I turned the radio on in the truck so that conversation
wouldn't be necessary. I just didn't feel like talking right now. I was really confused by these feelings that were going through
me. I loved Marco with all my heart and wanted nothing more than to be with him forever. Yet none of that mattered right now.
All I could think of were all the negative things that had happened. So not talking and having time to sort it all out was the best
thing I could do.
During our car-ride Marco kept acting as normal as could be. But then again, he never thought anything was wrong for the
past few months, so I didn't expect anything different. I was trying to get past whatever this was that was bothering me. But that's
hard as hell to do when I had no clue what it was to begin with. So I put on my happy face and carried on.
We got to James' house and stayed for about 15 minutes, just long enough for Marco to have one beer with Jim. After that we
ran by my house, dropped off his luggage, then went to the grocery store to get beer to bring to Brian's house. I knew that our
grocery store would be fun for him to walk through. The store that I had gone to with him in Holland was really small. More like
a mini-market, or a larger 7-11. We only needed to get one or two things, but walked through every isle, just so he could see it
all.
We went to Brian's house and visited for a while. There was some kind of sports on tv, so they got along just peachy. I was
glad because Brian is one of my closest friends, and it would have sucked if they were uncomfortable around each other. We
stayed for about an hour, but then we really needed to get going. On the way back to my house, we went through a drive-thru so
Marco could get a hamburger. Welcome to America! Continue
things were wonderful and we continued to grow closer. However somewhere around the third month, the strain of being apart
was getting to me. I started questioning everything that Marco did and didn't do. I was finding fault in just about anything I
could. By the fourth month it was almost unbearable. I was making myself miserable. I knew he would be here within a month,
but if it weren't for the fact that he already had purchased his ticket, I would have told him not to bother coming at all.
We barely got to see each other online anymore. He was working late every day to earn extra money for while he was here on
holiday. And when he wasn't working, he was too tired to get online. He kept telling me that he was working hard so that we
could have a nice holiday together. I understood that, but it still bothered me, a lot. Online was all we had. It's not like we were
together and I would at least get to see him for 5 minutes in the morning or talk to him for a few minutes at night. Instead we
would go days without talking. The more time that passed in between conversations, the angrier I became. And when we would
finally get a chance to talk, I would spend the majority of the conversation being pissed at him. I tried many times to explain to
him that if things didn't change, he would be working hard for nothing. Because the 'us' that he was working so hard for, would
be gone. But he never seemed to understand what I was telling him. During the last month or so before Marco came, not a single
day went bye when I was not angry with him. This relationship was in no way, shape or form, fun anymore. The only reason I
stuck this out was in hopes that once he came to America and we were together again, that things would finally go back to
normal.
For the most part, on the day he was arriving I was happy. Although the feelings of disappointment and anger were still
lingering around. I had tried and tried, but nothing was making them go away. But I just kept them inside and tried to let the
excitement of being with him again take over. My nephew James was coming with me to the airport to pick up Marco. Marco
and him have this little bond going. They have talked on the phone many times. Marco tells James of all the evil things he did as
a child, and James says he wants to be just like him. James can do no wrong in Marco's eyes. For that matter, neither can Tyler
(James' younger brother). Marco just laughs and calls him the cute little devil boy. Anyway, James and I went to the airport
about an hour early and waited for his plane to arrive. He wanted to make a big sign and hold it up to embarrass Marco. I
should have let him do it, but said no. He was so cute the whole time we were waiting. He kept staring out the window
practicing how he was going to say hi to Marco when he met him. He was definitely more excited than I was.
When the plane arrived at the gate we waited for Marco to come walking out of the hallway. James actually recognized him
before I did. He came walking out with jeans, a jeans jacket, baseball hat, and sunglasses on. Now mind you, it was about
9:00pm, so the sunglasses kind of threw me. Not to mention I had never seen him wearing sunglasses before. Anyway, there he
was. James was all smiles and excited. And I have to admit, for a brief moment all the bad things that had happened during the
past month or so went away and were replaced with pure happiness. Only for a moment though.
Marco walked up, stuck out his hand to shake mine, and said, "hello". Huh? So I took his hand, said, "What the fuck is this
handshake shit?" and gave him a kiss hello. As he shook James' hand I noticed his left ring finger, and the ring that was on it!
Ummm hello?! I grabbed his hand and asked him what the hell this ring was for. He just said, "Oh nothing, its a ring. Why?"
Now I realize that our cultures are different in many ways, but a ring on the ring finger of the left hand is the same in Holland as
it is in America. So I told him that it means he's friggin married, and asked him where he got it and why he was wearing it on
that finger. He said, "No reason, I just bought it. I'll change it." I just shook my head, made a disgusted face, and said, "Good"
as he moved it to his right hand. This sucked. I knew I should be excited, but every feeling of insecurity and anger was now
coming through loud and clear. For months I had told myself that he found someone else, and this damn ring sure as hell didn't
help matters.
The three of us talked a little as we walked outside so Marco could smoke before going to get his luggage. James was still
super excited and I was trying desperately to be happy. Idle chitchat is pretty much the extent of what our conversation was. How
was the flight? Did you eat well? Did you sleep? Did you find your way ok in Chicago? etc. We eventually got his luggage and
started our drive home. We were going to drop James off at his home, let Cathi and Jim (my sister and brother in law) meet
Marco, and then go to my friend Brian's house for a drink. We had to leave for our road trip to Florida by 8am the next
morning, so we would not be able to stay in any one place very long. I turned the radio on in the truck so that conversation
wouldn't be necessary. I just didn't feel like talking right now. I was really confused by these feelings that were going through
me. I loved Marco with all my heart and wanted nothing more than to be with him forever. Yet none of that mattered right now.
All I could think of were all the negative things that had happened. So not talking and having time to sort it all out was the best
thing I could do.
During our car-ride Marco kept acting as normal as could be. But then again, he never thought anything was wrong for the
past few months, so I didn't expect anything different. I was trying to get past whatever this was that was bothering me. But that's
hard as hell to do when I had no clue what it was to begin with. So I put on my happy face and carried on.
We got to James' house and stayed for about 15 minutes, just long enough for Marco to have one beer with Jim. After that we
ran by my house, dropped off his luggage, then went to the grocery store to get beer to bring to Brian's house. I knew that our
grocery store would be fun for him to walk through. The store that I had gone to with him in Holland was really small. More like
a mini-market, or a larger 7-11. We only needed to get one or two things, but walked through every isle, just so he could see it
all.
We went to Brian's house and visited for a while. There was some kind of sports on tv, so they got along just peachy. I was
glad because Brian is one of my closest friends, and it would have sucked if they were uncomfortable around each other. We
stayed for about an hour, but then we really needed to get going. On the way back to my house, we went through a drive-thru so
Marco could get a hamburger. Welcome to America! Continue
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