What I've never been told about long distance relationships, but have finally learned.

Someone brushes my face softly, and I awake. In front of me stands Peter and our orthodentist, who had just finished working on one of his teeth. I must have been sleeping in the waiting room for a while, because I remembered there being about 5 other people waiting as well and now they've all left except for one. 

I pack up my laptop and we head back home in silence as we cross speed bumps and twist past other motorcycles. 

Then he says something. 

"Did you write about what happened last night in your blog, amor?" (Since I wrote both blog posts while waiting during his other orthodontist appointments). 

My eyes are troubled, a reflection of my soul. 

"No...I can't.... I mean, I tried but I just couldn't write." 

He doesn't say anything, so I rest my head upon the back of his neck and continue, like a child blurting out words of confession to his mother when he realizes there is no other way out:

"I fell asleep because there were tears in my eyes and I didn't want the other patients to see me crying, so I closed them. And then I fell asleep and was able to forget about it all for awhile. I was also upset because she was taking so long, and this is our last whole day together, so I was frustrated and now all that I have left with you is so very little." 

It was all rather choppy and disorganized, but sometimes that's all that is needed. 

I really had tried to write about the adventure of our 2nd year anniversary, mostly because it was one of those stories that is frustratingly satisfying, like a good Dick Van Dyke show or an Andy Griffith. And since I never could finish writing that account, I'll just say that it involved 3 hours of attempting to break into our rental car with 2 clothes hangers, some medical tape, and lots of Spanish gospel hymns when our patience ran dry, only to result with the lost key being underneath the sofa the entire time. We were 4 hours past my curfew and 3 hours past functional sanity by the time I was dropped off at my house. 

But was it an anniversary date that I will never forget? Absolutely. 

And we truly did have a fantastic time leading up to that, it was simply a comical way to end it. 

The next day was my departure. A Friday. I felt okay for the majority of the morning since we'd gone on a run and joked around with our friend, Feliz while drinking coffee and enjoying the morning light. But now I was alone, in my room, packing up my clothing. As if I had been stricken by a heart attack, I laid down and slowly let the pain surface. I remember thinking, 

"People don't see this part of long distance relationships. They, (myself included), see the anticipation of being together again, the photos of joyous reunions, the million ways that moments are seized because time is so precious with long distancers, and the dedication during the seperations, yet it is rare for people to see, to feel, the horrendous heart break of leaving each other." 

After thinking that, all I can remember repeating in my head was, "It hurts, it hurts," as if I was a patient in the hospital moaning from the pain of a broken body. 

Why am I telling you all this? Why do I bother to inform the general public that I took a nap in the dentist's office, lost the key on our anniversary and felt like I was dying the day I had to leave? 

Because in the past I've thought that these kind of things get bottled up and set aside since there is no resolution to them. But now I know that it's not like that. I've had to leave 4 times, and I can finally identify the healthiest ways of going through this process (spoiler alert, none of them involve chickflicks and ice cream, but if you want to do that, go ahead):

1. Let yourself feel. To deny yourself the gift of feeling is to essentially negate the essence of humanity. 

2. Let yourself cry. But don't be a mope. I finally realized how special and important it is to cry TO someone. For me, that was God, since I had no one else to turn to. And I have to be honest, He's probably your best choice out there because He can understand in a way that no one else can. But crying to someone really changes the focus and allows a release, rather than a constant cycle of crying, sorrow, and consequent moping around (something I know my family doens't enjoy, haha, Hi Mom!). 

3. Don't isolate yourself. In my particular case, I could easily make the mistake of thinking the only person who would help me stop feeling lonely would be my boyfriend--but that's not true. God has designed and placed specific people in our lives to help us in unique ways. So while no one will ever be able to replace anyone, we can all help each other out.

4. Don't miss him/her too much. This advice ultimately came from my sweet friend, Delvalina. At first I thought, "But aren't I supposed to miss him A LOT?? And if I don't miss him, isn't that a bad thing?" But the point isn't that I can't nor shouldn't miss him, rather instead that I shouldn't miss out on what's going on around me because I'm too focused on missing him. Once you've given yourself the opportunity to feel through the grief, you need to also give yourself the opportunity to live life and not miss out on very special moments simply because they can't be lived with your loved one. 

5. And finally, don't ever be afraid to admit that it's hard, but please don't make it harder than it actually is. There are days when I can physically feel the weight of how hard it all is and there are other days when it's actually quite easy. It's all an ebb and flow just as natural as the ocean, and something that should neither be denied nor exaggerated. I can rest in knowing that God's plan for me is best regardless and sometimes in spite of my perspective, so it truly is possible to have long periods of peace and contentment all while desiring to be somewhere else. It seems like an oxymoron, but I have experienced it and I know that joy is found in these seasons. So while the waiting is long, the distance most unpleasant, and the hard days, well, hard, my prayer throughout is that my self and my desires diminish, and my joy in Christ ever increase.