You look at the calendar today, thinking about how you also did that exactly a year ago. The threat was there, but death wasn’t looming over all of the world yet. You missed him then. And you miss him now. And you’re not used to that feeling.
You trust that distance makes the heart grow fonder. You know yourself, and you know both of you. And in your head, this won’t be the cause of losing each other. You fought through petty squabbles, schedule conflicts, emotional baggage, and frantic disagreements that almost tore both of you apart. But you both stood still and made it work. Both of you were strong enough to make it work. And distance won’t be the reason when you’ve gone through so much worse.
You wish that the last time you saw him, you hugged him a little longer. You start to recall the last good memory you have of his presence. You wish you didn’t tell him to leave when he still wanted to stay, even if he had work in the morning. You hope that his scent stays on the jacket you took from him until he’s back, not knowing when that will be.
And the longer you wait, it feels like you’re dying a little more inside as you spend yet another day staring at his face on your 421st video call since the pandemic struck.
You inhale deeply and exhale as loudly as you can and just look forward to the next time you can meet. You shrug it off and start to plan how you’ll spend the day so you can make up for your time apart. You instead imagine everything that you could be doing now—cooking meals for him because you specifically know how he wants his steak, cuddling while the raindrops are rolling down the windows, watching a chick flick he obviously didn’t pick, makeout marathons, and another round of sex. Then reality kicks in and you catch yourself staring at the ceiling instead of tucked in his arms.
It’s a challenge. It’s difficult going from seeing him several times a week to “when it’s better”. And you start to wonder if the heart really grows fonder even if you can’t be certain when that distance will close.
You want to see, hear, and feel him now.
But you also know the risks that come with that longing. Not when loved ones are put at risk. Not when our healthcare system is breaking down. Not when it’s not 100% certain that neither of you are carriers. Not when you have a choice to stay at home when the frontline workers are risking everything to get through another battle for that day.
The world hasn’t come to a halt, and neither did your relationship. It’s a different circumstance and it was brought in without your choice. It’s completely okay to feel overwhelmed, confused, lonely. But choosing to fight is your call, even if you’re not yet sure how and when it will all pan out for the better. Keep daydreaming about what you want to happen. Keep planning about how you’ll spend the day when you can see each other again. Keep reminiscing about the good times. Keep making it work.
And once everyone can stop surviving and go back to living, it will be better.