Friday, November 2, 2012

Wistful

Detroit: When we see one another, which is every two or three weeks at the moment, we make it count. I greet him at the airport with a hand-painted sign that says “I love you like there is no tomorrow.” He picks me up, spins me around, and whispers in my ear. I meet up with him in a different city, and he says “We have a stop to make.” We end up at a bakery, for a surprise belated birthday cake.

Minneapolis: We make time together count. Every time I see her, the first thing I do is pick her up and spin her around, whispering something mushy in her ear. The camera may as well be pulling away and credits rolling with “the boy damn sure did get the girl” music starting up.
Some people wait their whole lives and never have that feeling. But every time I see her, we start with a romantic ending.

...

Detroit: Every night we are apart, there is a bedtime phone call. Even if I am asleep he calls to wake me up and I mumble something sleepy-cute. Often we’ll be texting or messaging and I will type, “Getting sleepy, call when you’re in bed.” Even if we only talk for a second, I go to bed feeling loved. And at the end of the day, that is always enough.

Minneapolis: And lastly: “It’s late. I can’t keep my eyes open. I’ll say this like I did yesterday and the day before, and tomorrow and the day after. I miss you. I love you. Good night.”

― Steven Margaret, How To Make A Long-Distance Relationship Work | Thought Catalog



I am envious of those girls who are constantly showered with love by their other halves, whose partners are so proud of them that they are always pleased to show them to the world, who are always so doted on.

I am envious and I am bitter. I am so bitter. I never understood people who are unhappy like that because they always seem to be yearning, and they are never contented. And I'm becoming one of them. How did I become such a bitter person.

Is it really so hard to be loved the way I want.

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