In love and absence.
Mr. Big and I are approaching four months of existing in a long distance dynamic. It feels strange to know we’ve been physically apart longer than we were together after reconciling in August.
Living in the same town those two short months were amazing. Looking back I remember “little things” that were taken for granted at the time. Like him scooping me up on a lunch break at work. Or renting and watching a movie on his bed & in his nook. Ordering Thai food takeout and watching an NFL game. Accidentally falling asleep on his lap. Dressing up and meeting our friends out on the town for drinks and dancing.
Those moments of just literally being around one another - laughing, smiling, holding hands - play in my head like vignettes. They’re now memories, but I don’t want them to be. I want them to be here and now. Every day.
When I learned he would be relocating 450 miles away for an opportunistic job, I honestly had no idea if we’d make it; the odds were not favorable to put it gently. We had just begun a healing process, getting to know each other again (particularly our more authentic, more experienced selves), and navigating through the unknowns. So my motto was: Day by day.
I suppose a silver-lining element to being apart is that the separation serves as a catalyst to definitively make us or break us. If you can make it through this…
One thing I know for sure is — long distance relationships are awful. You miss each other terribly. Lack physical touch and presence. Get tired of phone calls and texting. Stress out about unreasonably priced plane tickets.
Another tough pill to swallow has been coming to terms with the fact that our initial expectations were unrealistic. “We’ll see each other every other weekend.” “We’ll make it so that the distance has very little impact.” “[Insert hopeful affirmation that you say to make yourself feel better.]”
It’s hard. Really, really hard. I’ve also recognized that I have a threshold and that abruptly happens at the 3 week mark. That is when I hit a brick wall. Absence may make the heart grow fonder, but it also makes the heart harden.
Will I one day take a one-way flight down south to join him, and stay there indefinitely? Sure. But we have some personal steps to take, individually and together, before that can happen. And in the meantime, try not to go certifiably crazy.
After a recent temper tantrum, I had what Oprah likes to call an Ah Ha moment.
Several instances transpired that were a sharp reminder of my situation (31.5-year-old unmarried-but-wants-not-to-be woman, who is trying to find patience in a long-distance dating scenario). Like when filling out forms at the Doctor’s office and having to write my Mother’s name as the emergency contact, also serving as my life insurance beneficiary. Receiving higher monthly rates at my new gym as a single member vs. a couples membership. Filing taxes and not finanically benefiting as my married counterparts do. Listening to my girlfriend (happily married with child) complaining that she desperately needs to find like-minded couples (also with child) to become friends with and asked me to essentially play matchmaker.
The list just kept getting longer, to the point where all I could do was chuckle. And then it hit me — with a reminder from who else but Oprah’s spiritual teacher Eckhart Tolle — I have to stop missing The Now. To continously miss The Now by chasing after some mental abstraction of the future, you miss the one thing that is real. Which, is Now. There is a grave fallacy of seeking ourselves in the future. No the ‘story’ in my head isn’t complete…but I’ll get there.
Coming to terms with circumstances out of my control is tough. Being states apart from my partner is painful.
But, as they say…nothing worth having comes easy.
