If only teleportation were already invented

I'm packing tonight. I spend a lot of Thursday nights packing. Pretty much every other Friday morning, I leave my apartment for the weekend, to return late Sunday night.

This Thursday night, though, I'm packing for Oklahoma. And K is still in Lousiana. He's in New Orleans with some friends for Mardi Gras. But today is Rachel's birthday. I've known Rachel since kindergarten, when I was 4.

We've been through a lot together over the 19 years we've been friends. She's the first person I called when I got my first kiss. I was the one she called when she lost her first love. We had our weekly Friday night "rituals" in high school, which involved me spraying her apple glitter spray on her face and my face while we drove around "uptown" ("dragging Main" is what it's called on movies and in other towns, but we only crossed Main Street twice in this four-block square everyone drove around) listening to "Teachers" by Daft Punk. We roomed together all four years of college.

Rachel's boyfriend, who was a friend of mine in college, has put together a surprise party for her tomorrow night. I'll get to see my old roommates (the two who lived with Rachel and me our senior year in college) and some other friends I haven't seen in awhile. I'll also probably get to see Danielle on Sunday to see her ring in person and hear the story of her proposal. Rachel and Danielle -- and my old roommates, too -- are all very good friends, and I haven't seen them all in a while.

But I'm not that excited. I'm kind of frustrated, really. Weekends are my time with K. I don't like to give up that time.

I know I shouldn't take friends for granted, and I don't. I know it sounds terrible that I'm bummed out that I'll be heading north tomorrow rather than south. The thing is, though, of the seven days in a week, I get to spend less than two of those with K. Of the 168 hours in a week, we get to spend only about 45 together. And we have to drive 10 to do it.

It's getting harder to make that drive each week. I've driven it so many times. It's not a very exciting drive, but it's always worth it once you get there. Since we rotate, we each make that drive almost every other weekend (sometimes more) -- come rain, come shine. I treasure those Friday nights, that fabulous full day together on Saturday, and the time-warped Sundays that end as soon as they begin.

It'll be hard when I leave work tomorrow to point my car in the opposite direction from the person I really want to be seeing the most. But I'll do it. And I know I'll be glad I did. I know I'll enjoy myself this weekend, but I also know in the back of my mind while I'm in Norman, I'll be thinking of K, who will be 12 hours from where I want him to be.