You come to hate airports. And the juggling act forced on you by Christmas mayhem. And the thousand other tribulations that you’re heir to when you and your partner have been living apart for more than two years. Two years. The post-doc opportunity of a lifetime took my wife to MIT in August 2005, leaving me in Vancouver with only a couple years of my doctoral degree under my belt. We weren’t even married at that stage. Engaged before she left, we distracted ourselves during our first year apart by planning our nuptials. W-day was in July 2006, including a…