No Matter How Far, I Love You

I hate that I have to call you on the phone. I’m grateful technology has given us the chance to communicate across state, country, and continental lines, but it’s not the same. I’ve redefined how your voice sounds in my head, because now I have to hear it through my headphones. I miss being able to laugh with you, to feel the joy coursing out of our bodies, the result being seizure-like amusement. 

I think of our time at school. I think about how we used to talk about futures, blurred at the edges, a watercolor of uncertainty. I loved listening to your big dreams and how you would scoff at anyone being romantically involved in them. Sometimes, I feel a bit sad that our dreams are more attainable, more well-defined than they used to be. Other times, I cannot wait to be able to see you regularly again. Although, we still could never live together. That revelation continues to make me laugh. 

Often, I feel a sense of guilt that I am no longer home. Being strong and independent is no fun when I have to do it without you. I feel a deep sense of anxiety that I am away. But being away is my only option to get back to you. 

I miss your immense greenery, your mountains I used to inhabit, and the river you offered me to cool off in after a hot summer day. I think about returning to you, if only money and language didn’t stand in my way. 

I can vividly remember the smell of your kitchen. That feels weird, but I think it would be far more strange to lose that memory. 

Being with you every day made things feel incredibly simple. I don’t know how I’ve managed to make it this far in life without you, my built-in best friend, someone who has seen everything in my life and still chose to love me. I missed the days when we wouldn’t move a single inch, but our relationship grew for miles. I am incredibly proud of you, and I’m excited to visit you in the place where the hills touch the sea. 

Your winters have held me close three times. I am excited to run back into your arms; this time, a humid summer experience awaits me. I hope to lie out in one of your parks, watching people walk by, wondering how I got there, marveling at the novelty of my life’s path. I’m ready to be back. 

I wonder how you are. Sometimes you are all I can think of. I wonder what happened between us, why we chose to act as we did, and I consider what my life would look like if things hadn’t changed. I remember then why I hate you, but why I feel sad for the life you have chosen for yourself. In a very secret place in my heart, I hope you will wake up and leave. 

I wish I could sit in our living room and watch you cook for me. I think I never really appreciated how much you loved me through the food you so carefully made for me. Now that it’s gone, I have a hard time making things on my own. Like our little garden that waited to bloom until spring, I, too, wait many months to feel your embrace again. 

Sometimes, when I’m lonely, a feeling rather than a situation, I squeeze my eyes shut and think of what your hand feels like when you hold mine. I pretend to trace the veins that run up your forearm. I spin your imaginary wedding ring around. 

Why did you leave me? Why did I leave you? How can I make it back to where I once was?

My grief and guilt wake me up. They remind me to stay in the moment, to take in the relationship in all its glory before my life changes again. I look at you again. I see the memories we have made. I regret the time that has passed when I wasn’t in your flat, at your performance, eating the meal you cooked, watching the show we love. A thousand tiny, invisible strings flow out of my heart and connect with you, however far away you may be. Thank you for giving me a reason to be.

• experience
• life
• long-distance
• love
• relationships