Long distance is easy, they say.

Long distance is better, they say.

Well guess what?

It’s not easy.

Every day is a new wake up call.

“She’s not going to be in your first class today.”

“She won’t be waiting for you in the halls.”

“She won’t be texting you in class about lunch.”

Every “I love you” I hear sends a sharp knife through my chest.

Every unwanted image in my head of another taking my place

Ripping the breath from my lungs.

The mere fact that I’ll never know what it’s like to hold your hand in a hallway,

To kiss you behind the dugout at your games,

To dance with you at your last homecoming,

It tears me apart.

I flinch when someone touches me.

Always wanting it to be you and surprise me.

But long distance doesn’t work that way.

Long distance laughs at our pain.

Long distance mocks our attempts to make love happen.

Long distance doesn’t care about what we want.

It’s a drug that needs to be fed every hour, every minute, every second of

Every. Single. Day.

Long distance was never easy.

Long distance knew it was hard.

And long distance reveled in the misery of its people.