Temporary Heartache (Or, “Long Distance can get kicked in the you-know-where”)
Yesterday, I came back home from spending over two weeks at my long distance lover's house. In less than five weeks, he's coming down to visit me, for even longer.
So why do I feel so sad?
It's not like I'm never seeing him again. Hell, we spent over a year without seeing each other in person - it was horrible, but seriously, that should mean I should take this better. I am downright LDR spoiled this year. I saw him in January, I just visited him this summer, and he's coming down in less than a month to go on vacation with my family, hang out, go to a concert - I should be happy. I desperately want to be happy. But I keep breaking down and crying.
This isn't anything new, either. I remember pacing up and down my house the day after I came home from his house this winter, sobbing, practically screaming to turn back time and go back. And to be fair, that trip wasn't so good. We were both hormonal, freezing, "winter-blues-after-Christmas" messes. This past trip was awesome! We did so much awesome stuff, and I got to go on vacation with *his* family, and we went to an amusement park and the mall and we ended up going to so many fun places. It was beyond a blast. And the tears come again...
Whenever I go visit him or he visits me, I forget for a little bit. I forget how *hard* long distance is. I forget the weeks and months that I go without him near me, for a weekend or a week or two weeks or three. I forget how lonely it is knowing that he's missing out on major moments of my life, and I'm missing his. I forget how uncertain I get regarding moving myself up to him in a few years and starting our lives together. I forget all of the fears that I have about commitment, finances, marriage, children - change. And when I finally go back home or he leaves, the perfect little bubble is gone. I lose my safety net.
Not to say that I don't have a safety net at all - I am a Christian. I love my God. I fail Him daily, but I am loved and wonderfully made, and while my faith is shaken no less than five times a day, I know He will always be my ultimate groom and protector. "Knowing", though, is different from "comprehending" and "understanding", as shown by my bitter, bitter tears that I haven't been with my boyfriend in less than 24 hours and whom I will see in less than five weeks. I pray and pray that I'll understand, that I'll no longer be sad, but I'm still crying. Doesn't mean that I'm not safe or protected or loved by my God, my boyfriend, my family, my friends, none of that. Does it mean I'm doubting God's plan? No. Does it mean I'm sad I'm not with the person I want to spend the rest of my life with? Well, yeah.
I keep telling myself to keep things in perspective. Not just about the relationship, mind you, but my life in general. I'm healthy, I have food, I have a roof over my head, all that good stuff that lots of girls my age don't have. I'm going back to school in the fall, I have more vacation to look forward to, I have a job that I can take vacation from. My boyfriend and I live on the same coast in the same time zone of the same country, we can see each other twice a year instead of once every two years, neither of us are military, we can talk every day...the list goes on and on. I'm loved. I'm secure. I'm, overall, happy.
But I still miss hugs and kisses and cuddling. I miss holding hands down the street and showing strangers on the street that this guy is mine and I'm his. I just want to sit down and cry when I can't have that *right now*. It's ungrateful, it's silly, especially knowing that instead of five months I only have to wait five weeks, and then only four months until I can possibly see him again. I know I'll see him again. There are couples who have to wait days or weeks or months to speak to their lover again, couples who are terrified that their loved one won't come back from war, and here I am, sitting on my bed, crying because I have to wait five weeks for a second vacation.
I *know*, and I still don't understand. But I will. I'll understand by the end of the week, and if not, I'll certainly understand before he comes down again. I'll forget again, and I'll have to relearn my lesson again when he leaves. It's a vicious cycle, but I swear I'll keep going. It's too important not to. Momentary pain is not enough to make me want to give up. I'll keep going, and I'll win against my own heartache. I am loved. I am strong. I will beat up long distance until it’s whimpering on the floor for its’ mama and I can finally call my home, his home, too. It won’t be perfect, and I know that different kinds of troubles will come with being together constantly. But for now, I can’t wait to be with him again.
Wait for someone that makes you smile so hard that your cheeks hurt and loves you so much that you can feel it through their fingertips when they brush the hair out of your eyes and lean in to kiss you.
i.
a girl’s feet will tangle yours under sheets you just bought for a night like this. the price tag is still glued to the plastic wrapping stuffed underneath the bed. her feet are frigid and feel like frostbite against your legs when you fall asleep, but they’re like mittens roasted over a fire when the sun blinks through the curtains.
ii.
a girl’s legs are taut and thick. they’re flexible and enclose you in a straightjacket at 2 am when they knot around your waist and pull you just a little closer. if she’s still sleeping, it’s even better.
iii.
her thighs will make you forget about your calculus homework and your french exam. they will make you forget about your father’s affair or your best friend’s disorders. they will make you forget your name and they will make you forget who you are without them. hold them as tight as you can. i promise, she loves it.
iv.
when you were in fourth grade, they taught you stop, drop, and roll at the sign of a fire. when you’re in her bedroom on the second floor, her quivering hips will trick-start a similar fire in your teeth, and you’re going to want to listen to your fourth grade teacher, but don’t. if you stop, whatever it may be that you’re doing, she might kill you.
v.
so in health class, they’re supposed to teach you that your hands will never fit somewhere like they will on a girl’s waist. it doesn’t matter if it’s wide and soft, or small and hard. your hands will adapt to her waist like the heart to your blood. they’ll feel as natural as fingers on an instrument.
vi.
sometimes you can see her ribs; sometimes you can’t. they flicker like an old grainy movie under her skin, and they feel like sharp magma in your palms. they’re structure — they protect her. hold her there if you want her to feel like this house isn’t caving in on herself.
vii.
her chest. promise her you’d never want anything more or anything less. if you don’t mean it, stop reading, and find someone else.
viii.
taste her collarbone. dip in the crevices and valleys and plant trees at the bottom. root down, cherish the nature, and never ever underestimate a girl’s collarbones. they’re a place to sleep when its -11 outside. write scripts on her collarbone. they are forever.
ix.
if you don’t know blueprints to her neck with your eyes closed from tracing it with your mouth, you’re doing it wrong. learn it. memorize it. you better know her pulse like counting with your dominant hand. kiss it like it’s her mouth. her neck will change over time, yes. but make sure you can change with it.
x.
kiss her before she brushes her teeth. make fun of her morning breath. kiss her after, and make fun of the flavor of her toothpaste. kiss her when she’s angry and throwing the vase your mother bought her, and kiss her when she can’t stand and she bubbles over with tears like hot water. kiss her if she’s laughing and tell her it’s because she makes you happy. kiss her if she won’t stop talking because you want to taste her voice. kiss her when she isn’t talking because you miss it. kiss her in the shower and kiss her everywhere. if it’s raining, kiss her, and kiss her again when she calls you a cliche. kiss her in public because you want them all to know, and kiss her in private because you don’t need them to either. god, just kiss her on the mouth. nothing else matters. just fucking kiss her.
apparently February 14th will be a full moon. Celebrate with your lover by turning into a werewolf on your date and devouring them. 100% romantic i am an expert.
prguitarman
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