#longdistane

One month. Thirty-one days. Seven hundred and forty-four hours. Forty-four thousand, six hundred and forty seconds. [Plus three days]

It seems as if the closer it gets, the longer the days persist. We’re so close, yet literally so far.  As each day draws closer, I miss him even more. It’s only a matter of days until I’ll be in his arms again. I long for him to just hold me. It was funny, the other day in the middle of a drive I randomly started crying (moderately hard) because I realized how long it’s been since I had a “real” hug. Luckily, I stopped crying because it took 30 minutes for me to find parking, and I was fuming. 

it’s been five months, yet each day that passes feels like an eternity. All I want to do is be with him right now, be able to just hold his hand, feel his skin against my fingertips. I’m tired of having to try and remember how much softer his freaking hairless skin is than mine. I’m tired of having to remember what his arms wrapped around me feel like or how much taller he is than me. I’m tired of having to remember every detail about being with him. I want to see his face in person and not on whatever resolution my laptop is in. I want him to be something/someone tangible once again. I want to be able to experience his presence, once again. 

What’s most challenging for me now is trying not to focus on the fact that two weeks later, we’ll be apart once again. There’s a time limit on this encounter. The moment I first see him, God flips the hourglass. I can already feel the heartache of having to leave. I feel like it’s the day he left all over again. My heart just plunging to the depths of my soul. I can picture me driving away and bawling my eyes out. But this time I’ll have to keep some composure since I have to go into an airport and sit near strangers for hours. 

This trip, like his last few days or weeks or so, is the epitome of learning to live in the moment. Having to appreciate every single second without the deadline hindering your time together. I think I held up decently well when he was leaving, in that I wasn’t so consumed with his departure on our last days. Hopefully, it’ll be the same this time around. 

It sucks, immensely. It feels like I’m temporarily getting my heartbroken, and as long as we stay together, It’s going to be like that for at least the next two years. If we can endure it, it’ll be completely worth it. 

Long distance relationships should be included in examples for delayed gratification. In a culture where instant gratification is the norm, we should get a giant gold star. It’s incredibly challenging with a big part of me over 4000 miles away. 

At the same time, a weird part of me is scared. I’m scared that maybe I’m hyping him up in my head. It won’t be as “magical” as it seems. I think a part of me is afraid of some sort of letdown. The part of me that’s looking for reasons to undermine my happiness. I’ve been building it up so high that now my insecurities are starting to create some absurd cracks in my foundation. I’m trying not to let them propagate, but ultimately, i know this part of me is just being stupid. It will be as magical and amazing as a unicorn puking rainbows. 

Thirty-four more days.