One of the happiest times of my life so far was being in a long distance relationship with someone all the way across the country. The distance forced us to forge an honest relationship, getting to know each other mentally before anything physical happened. Of course, this made our bond even stronger and he became one of my best friends. I would talk to him everyday, from the time he woke up (since he was 3 hours behind me) to the time I fell asleep.
It was the first time I became fully comfortable to be myself with someone intimately. I finally, for the first time, allowed myself to be vulnerable, and that scared me. A lot. And then I self-sabotaged.
And now, the person who gave me the confidence and security I needed to know I can be loved in a way I’d never felt before, is as distant to me emotionally as he is physically. 2685.74 miles.
This happened more than a year ago now. But here I am, bawling my eyes out, still caring for him as I did all along. And the reason is because there aren’t many worse feelings than knowing the person you’re still in love with is still in love with you, but will never believe that your feelings are real. But that’s the thing about love and life: not everything can be proven physically or scientifically. In fact, the best things can’t be. And that’s why we have faith. Without it, we have nothing. With it, we have hope — to forgive ourselves, become stronger, and pick up the pieces, no matter how many times we fall back down.