I don’t really write personal posts on here anymore, but if you’re a long time reader you’ll know that I used to blog about everything that passed my mind, AND this is my blog so I’ll do what I like, nerrr.
When I split up with my last boyfriend, I promised myself that I would never do this to myself again. Long distance relationships are, to put it bluntly, absolute cunts. Along with the usual relationship trouble, you can add in a hefty dollop of fresh, geography based strife that will eventually wear you, and your partner, down. This boyfriend, lets call him F (for fucker), was lovely to begin with, and at first neither of us minded travelling up and down the country to see each other and paying extraordinary train ticket fees for the pleasure of doing so, and as with any other new relationship, things were just swell. In the end F turned out to be a bit of a prick, bringing the lovely gift of Relationship Trouble, which is hard enough when you don’t have to travel for 3 hours to see each other, but virtually impossible when all you have to go on are strained phonecalls and arguments over MSN. But then the distance between us played its part – “When are we going to see each other next?!” I’d wail, amazed that I hadn’t seen my very own boyfriend for 6 months. 6 months! I saw my doctor more than I saw my boyfriend!
But he couldn’t afford to come and see me, and was always ‘busy’ whenever I suggested going to visit him. Eventually, I had to end things, as my own boyfriend didn’t want to see me, and didn’t even pretend to like me anymore. So I ended things, feeling a bit bruised but knowing it was for the best. I deleted him on Facebook, and MSN, and with one fell swoop he was out of my life. And I vowed that no matter what, I would never, ever do the long distance thing again. Ever.
…Which is why I find myself in one ten months later.
It wasn’t meant to happen! My boyfriend, we’ll call him L (for lovely), started out as a random man on Twitter, and turned into my best friend, and the only person I could really turn to when things went to shit with F. And slowly I found myself thinking of him more, staying up late to talk to him, feeling butterflies whenever he sent me a text. He was 229 miles away, but I felt close to him. And before I knew it, I was single, we were arranging to meet, and I knew I had fallen. And in real life, it was amazing – he made me happy, we had fun together, and he was pretty much the funniest, sweetest guy I had ever met. Oh, and he wasn’t a 50 year old paedophile, which is always a bonus when you meet someone on the internet. I didn’t really know what to do – my head was telling me that I was doing the wrong thing, rushing in so quickly, and to another long distance mindfuck of shit no less, but my heart.. my heart was in an entirely different place, and so I decided to go for it, because, well, I was in love.
It’s great, yes, but it is not easy. It is still, at the end of the day, a long distance relationship, and when I’m not with him I miss him more than words can describe. It’s strange, though. It hurts, yes, but I don’t let it get me down as much as I probably should. This isn’t the first time I’ve been in a relationship that is defined by the moments you can snatch together, and it isn’t the first time I’ve watched as real life gets in the way of spending time together (fucking work and their fucking holiday allowance!).
I go to university in a month, and my boyfriend is moving to the city to be with me, meaning that we will finally have more of a normal relationship and get to see each other more. I’m very excited, and it’s pretty much all I can think about, meaning that I don’t get emotional when I see couples kissing, like I have done in the past, I don’t get angry when friends who have their partners near neglect them, like I have done in the past – instead I am beyond excited about getting to spend (fingers crossed) the rest of my life with someone that I really, truly love, and who is the greatest friend I’ve ever had. I have my mind firmly set on the future, and therefore I’m pretty numb to the present.
I’m lucky, I suppose, because I can see a way out of it and therefore it’s not as sucky as it would be otherwise, with an indefinite amount of time and space in between myself and all I really want. I feel bad for not feeling like it’s the end of the world when we can’t spend that much time together, but then why should I feel bad? Yes, it is crap that we can’t see each other, but we’re going to get to see each other all the time soon! And how brilliant is that?! I adore him, and I know that I am very lucky to have found him, and to be striving to make it work, and so it’s all worth it.
Long distance relationships are, without a doubt, the shittiest piece of shit there ever was, but if you can make it work – go for it, listen to your heart! Because it always knows what it wants, even when what it wants is 229 miles away.