I remember once, in passing, how I read that every long distance relationship has that one ultimate goal: the end date.
That is to say, we that put ourselves in this unnecessary position all aim towards that rough estimate in time where we aim to close the distance. I don't know why, but that sounds kind of ominous. Or maybe that's an accurate way for it to sound since, you know, maybe once there's no distance, our relationships will crash and burn so viciously that we'll join the crowd of "LDR ARE SO FUCKING STUPID OMG."
Anyway...I'm here to say that I have an end date. Rejoice.
But what I'm here to say even more is that there is so much...more to what this means. Has meant. For years. I talk primarily about my long distance relationship because I know a lot of people hear that I'm wanting to, planning to, preparing to move and automatically think that it's because of my long distance relationship. I'm here writing this post because there is so much more beneath the surface to my decision - to all of the decisions I've made over the past decade of my life.
Warning: this is a long one.
Showing posts with label long distance relationship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label long distance relationship. Show all posts
6.29.2014
The IceBlock [21]: Saying Goodbye
I have lost friends over my relationship, and have had others question me or try to tell me why being committed over long distance is not worth it or, even more, is unfair to one's self. I am glad to say that even when I was at the human peak of self-consciousness, as a teen, I still didn't take what people said or thought about me to heart.
For anyone that has followed my blog somewhat closely, you may have put two and two together and figured out that my boyfriend does not live here. And for those of you who are just now stumbling upon this post, it's clear to you that I am in a long distance relationship. This will be my official announcement of it, not that one is needed.
There is a logic we come to learn as we get older. That practice makes perfect. The more you do something, the easier it is to do. And I wish at this very moment that those words were true about everything, but there are many things that can't be contained within any kind of frame.
We say goodbye every day, multiple times a day, and today is the fourth time I've said goodbye to him for what will turn into months, but you know what? Not only does saying goodbye not get easier, but it in fact gets harder. I am sitting here typing this to you, feeling a rock-bottom loneliness that will crumble to tears for the next few hours, then linger for a week before slowly morphing into a subtle "I miss you" that's constantly trumped by the monotony of life, 2,800 miles apart.
This is my fault. I mean, I decided this on my own, and I wouldn't change it for anything. I am committed and I am prepared to feel like utter crap each and every single time I have to say goodbye. Which I will perhaps always be able to count on both hands, because 2,800 miles is a 6-hour flight that you simply can't do every month, or for a mere three-day-weekend. Regardless, as a single decision made entirely by me, it still hurts the way a loss could. The dragging periods of wait in between are awful, but the very moment, when we know "this hug will be the last for a long time" - that moment is the absolute worst.
And here I am trying to get through it again. Taking in this silence that makes my stomach knot, and realizing you're gone. We said goodbye a few hours ago, and you're gone.
For anyone that has followed my blog somewhat closely, you may have put two and two together and figured out that my boyfriend does not live here. And for those of you who are just now stumbling upon this post, it's clear to you that I am in a long distance relationship. This will be my official announcement of it, not that one is needed.
There is a logic we come to learn as we get older. That practice makes perfect. The more you do something, the easier it is to do. And I wish at this very moment that those words were true about everything, but there are many things that can't be contained within any kind of frame.
We say goodbye every day, multiple times a day, and today is the fourth time I've said goodbye to him for what will turn into months, but you know what? Not only does saying goodbye not get easier, but it in fact gets harder. I am sitting here typing this to you, feeling a rock-bottom loneliness that will crumble to tears for the next few hours, then linger for a week before slowly morphing into a subtle "I miss you" that's constantly trumped by the monotony of life, 2,800 miles apart.
This is my fault. I mean, I decided this on my own, and I wouldn't change it for anything. I am committed and I am prepared to feel like utter crap each and every single time I have to say goodbye. Which I will perhaps always be able to count on both hands, because 2,800 miles is a 6-hour flight that you simply can't do every month, or for a mere three-day-weekend. Regardless, as a single decision made entirely by me, it still hurts the way a loss could. The dragging periods of wait in between are awful, but the very moment, when we know "this hug will be the last for a long time" - that moment is the absolute worst.
And here I am trying to get through it again. Taking in this silence that makes my stomach knot, and realizing you're gone. We said goodbye a few hours ago, and you're gone.
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