You know its coming and even though you’ve gone it a million times before, it still leaves you feeling empty. It leaves you feeling hollow and alone, even if you’d just had the most amazing time with him. And every time they leave you have that moment, that second, where you really consider what it’s doing to you. To them. To the relationship. Instead of seeing a light at the end of this dark, tiring tunnel, you see a small flicker and sometimes, in these moments, it almost goes out completely. Almost.
By now, coming into our third year of distance, this May, I have a routine down pat. Once he leaves, I walk back into my room with my heart still beating fast from that last kiss, that last hug, those last few touches and I curl up in bed. It still smells like him and I wrap myself in the blankets, with his hoodie on, and I fall asleep for a few hours. He usually gives me a text when he’s arrived home, just so I know he’s okay. We’ll talk for a little bit before one of us falls asleep. And then I get up the next day and go about my business, wishing I could come home to him.
Saying goodbye is never easy. And there have been, there are times, that we have both really thought about what we are doing. Moving to Darwin was a decision I made to close the distance, but even then, we still have a car ride and fuel prices to pay before we can make the trip to see each other.
One day it will be over. One day he will come home to me, every single night. One day I will be able to wake up to him every single morning and not have to worry about when he is leaving again. One day we will have a place of our own.
One day, we will look back and say “we’ve made it.”