Dialling. Active Now. Log On.
End Call. Offline. Log Off.
I wrap my life up into these things because the most important person in my life lives on the other end of these devices.
My day actually begins before I sleep, and ends after an hour; a playful phone goodbye, typed hearts, and my favourite, ”I love you more.”
The best part of my day is when we’re both tired, and have no energy for anyone else but each other.
Though tonight I’m only tears. The call is over, and I’m alone. End Call. Offline. Log Off.
I always feel most intense about you when all is done. The technology has ended but I’m still going – still loving – I don’t have an End Call. An Offline. A Log Off, feature.
At this time I long for you. A long to not be cut off from you. To have actual presence that allows me to touch, gaze at, or sit in pleasant silence. Instead our reality is scheduled and time sensitive. I can’t settle with that, and I have to.
A long distance relationship is certainly not an easy task. Though, it’s the task within this task, where we’ve actually created a beautiful task:
We have a relationship that picks-up from where it left off, twice a year (when we see each other) – either in Canada or Utah. It’s a relationship with bad reception, dropped phone calls, glitchy Skype calls, and handwritten notes of our love, with disdain for geography. It’s a relationship I’m excited about every single day/a reminder that each day is just a day we’re still away.
Our relationship is my greatest testament that has shown me the blessings of commitment, love, loneliness, passion, submission, curtousy, resiliency, happiness, maturity, honesty, pain and joy- all of which repeat themselves.
Our relationship is questionable because I haven’t discovered what drives me nuts besides that of loving you.
You are the greatest person I’ve ever met, and Jesus knew we’d be just fine with over 2,500 miles in between.
So there’s the task within the task. A lot of long waiting, lot of distance, and copious amount of relationship.
I’ll call you tonight.