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.
I love you, Andy. Let’s keep fighting. <3
Sparky
