I wonder about living so far from my work. In the beginning, it was a halfway in/halfway out decision. My husband lives (unofficially) over the border of our small country, and for many reasons, it was easier to continue like this rather than try to normalize our residency. He and I (officially) lived in his father’s apartment, on the correct side of the border.
So I bought my apartment in the mountains, which is actually two small apartments with a door in between them. This could have been a legal residence for both of us. But I moved in alone, and my husband will become my ex-. He’s going to rent out his father’s apartment because he needs the money and his father is in a nursing home. He is going to “move in with a friend” in order to keep residency.
However, it’s really friggin’ far from my work, and outside of the immediate necessity to get out and away and be far from all my problems with my husband, it has added a big complication to my life. In addition, now I also live far from the love of my life. (And this is said with all the wisdom and experience of a nearly fifty year old woman. I’m not some kid in love for the first time. I’ve never been so in tune with someone ever. It’s like I invented him.)
So I wonder, and it seems ridiculous, and I think I’m crazy, and then I look out the window and see the mountains. And it’s worth it. Every time I come home, it’s worth it.