Loving Long Distance

Since I was a child, I was forced to become accustomed to loving people long distantly. I didn't have Nan and Pop in the house down the road, my aunties and uncles next door or even a mum and dad living under the same roof. Although it was all I knew, I frequently longed for my loved ones. Loving long distantly creates desperation and heartache as we want to spend our waking hours with the people whom we adore. Such desperation & heartache makes for a perfect storm, where unspoken words accumulate and experiences become laced with perfectionistic ideation. It did, however, make me value family time all the more and I believe that I cherish family memories with more significance, importance and value than other children perhaps do. As my mum would say, there is always a bright side, Shopaholics. Over the years, I've learnt to cope with loving people long distantly and, Dolls, so will you.

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I was an only child with two parents who separated before my life began. I lived between two houses throughout childhood which was inconvenient at best and debilitating at worst. There were days and nights when I would cry and cry for the other parent, longing for their version of bedtime, their way of brushing my hair or their way of travelling to school. Then, at fifteen, I moved to the Bahamas to live periodically with my Father, travelling seas, mountains and oceans away from the two people I was closest to. It took me many years to learn that using the distance as an excuse to say cruel and hurtful things was unacceptable. I often forgave because I was taught that missing me was shown through name calling, yelling and punishment. But now, looking back, no matter how much you miss somebody, it isn't okay to expect your time together to be perfect because humans are innately imperfect and that is more than okay. It is in the imperfections of people that we discover individuality, form exciting relationships and discover unknown places. When I moved overseas, my mother became particularly distant, messaging me far less frequently than I needed her to. Without communication, she'd assumed she was providing me with freedom, growth and opportunity. Without communication, I'd assumed she didn't miss me. With communication, she'd needed me and I'd needed her. It was difficult surviving those four long months and I barely made it out alive but my mother and I survived because, upon return, we placed extra importance on communicating, discussion and bonding time because it had been so abundantly longed for.

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It seemed painfully ironic that the most significant relationship my mother fostered had to be with a person who lived five hours away by flight. Every time he left to return to his home, I had to watch my mother's hands tremble at the steering wheel and eyes swell with tears, holding her hand for the car ride home. It wasn't easy. It was hard. She loved him more intensely and truly than any other man I'd seen her with and every time he left, she crumbled. And looking back, so would I. We'd become an unlikely trio: the bikey, the potter and the schoolgirl. Nonetheless, our unlikely trio was a splendid reality filled with love, light and laughter. My now, Dad, and then, mum's boyfriend, would come down every other week or every other month for either 2-3 days or 4-5 days and the time was highly anticipated. We would drive to the airport with elaborate smiles pasted onto our faces and our greeting hugs were the tightest, most meaningful hugs that you could imagine. Due to the anticipation of our visits, we had expectations that everything would run smoothly because when it didn't and fights occurred, time felt wasted due to how precious it had become to us. How did we survive it? Our love had to be stronger than the unpredictability and difficulty of reality. We had to talk honestly, openly and frequently to ensure that we didn't bottle up emotions and implode over meaningless bumps in the road. We made our importance to one another known, all cards were on the table and we forced the odds to be in our favour because life without each other was more impossible than our chances at survival. The result? We have the fairytale ending to answer that, Shopaholics.

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What is likely to have become my most sacred, endearing and genuine friendships to date had unexpectedly blossomed in a place far from home. The longevity of our friendship is a testimony to the countless emails we've sent as modern-day pen pals. We correspond if not daily, weekly, crafting intricate emails filled with our thoughts about the world around us, significant highs and significant lows, work and school, friendships, interests and everything and more. Though I wish I could hug her every single day, the nature of loving her long distantly creates a magical atmosphere, one where our in-person encounters are exceptionally memorable and our pen-pal correspondence is relished. Our inseparable bond could survive the most dangerous currents, fiercest temperatures and darkest nights that its maintenance couldn't possibly be placed under the category of difficult to maintain. However, it has become easier to maintain as we facetime every fortnight and often speak of activities we're dying to participate in when the day does come that we see each other. We also share with each other that we pray for one another, dream of each other and find our friendship in symbols of nature. I suppose the key to our long-distance love having survived is our incessant, yet delightful conversation that never falls short of lengthy, respectful and so, so warm.

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Shopaholics, I don't believe it's natural for humans to spend long periods of time apart from the people who bring us intense meaning and purpose. I believe that loving long distantly is remarkably painful. In turn, loving another person can feel more bad than good. But the outcome of loving long distantly is a relationship bound with the strongest of strings and a love so pure and whole that it cannot break. It is those who fight the hardest battles that are the strongest soldiers. If I could do it, with my advice (that never falls short of detailed, raunchy and true), so can you, Dolls.

Kisses,

COS x

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Dedicated to Leila.

May you be as kind to yourself as you deserve.

I Love You <3

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