Long Distance Sucks

My name is Tiffany and I hate long distance.

It's been 2 and a half months since that airport goodbye scene and thinking about the last time I saw him and held him in my arms still brings tears to my eyes.

There are days that I actually manage to convince myself that I'm used to it- this new life without him physically being there. In my head, it's something that I personally need to go through. My last relationship (before it got to the stage of us going long-distance) made me incredibly dependent on my ex boyfriend. I tell myself that this time, I can still manage to be in a relationship without losing my own sense of identity. And sometimes I really manage to fool myself into believing that this is better for us. Because there are some days that the mundane, everyday routines get so repetitive, that I become so used to the void that I don't even notice it anymore.

But just because I don't notice it, doesn't mean it's not there.

There are days that it really hits me hard that he's not around. The void becomes heart-breakingly painful and I just sit there wishing that I could magically transport him here, or transport myself there. It seems to hit equally hard during happy occasions with friends when I wish that he could share it with me and during sad occasions such as bad days or fights with my parents. Narrating either event on email or chat just doesn't have the same impact. And online hugs just don't feel as good as real ones.

The worst part about our situation is that we don't know when we can see each other again. International flights are ridiculously expensive and vacation days are hard to come by. And then there's the fact that my traditional parents will probably flip a sh-t at the idea of their little girl going on holiday with a boy. I don't even want to begin to explain to them why we're not going to be in separate rooms. I don't think the excuse "it's cheaper" is really going to fly with them.

It's just a little sad because when we talk, we have all these grand plans for the future. There's the possibility of going to business school together, going to these exotic places for vacations, and the dream apartment that we want to have when we've somehow miraculously won the lottery and can afford that penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park.

It's memories and daydreams like these that make me tear up as I fall asleep, wishing for the weight of his arm around me, and the feeling of warmth as he holds me and I drift off to sleep pretending he'll never let me go.

In the end, what keeps me sane is the thought that there is most likely a grand plan for me out there that will make this all worth it in the end. And if that doesn't come soon enough, hopefully by then I'll be able to take matters into my own hands and give destiny a little nudge.