feeling the weight of distance

Advice to all women who are enduring a long-distance relationship: don't watch chick-flicks. I consider myself an emotionally sturdy individual, but there is something about watching two people who are happy, in love, and (more importantly) physically together that makes my longing for Geof agonizing. 

I saw "He's Just Not That Into You" last night with my girlfriends. Although I enjoyed the movie, I didn't like the way I felt afterwards. It put the thoughts into my head that I have been trying to avoid since he left--like how I am alone right now; and how even if I move there, it might not work out; or how if we get married some day, he might cheat on me with Scarlet Johanson. Well, scratch that one. But basically, it made me think about just how much I miss him. 

I miss holding his hand. I miss rubbing his beard. I miss watching him look at me. I miss cooking with him; we would laugh the whole time. I miss shopping at Wal Mart with him; he would give me piggy-back rides and we'd playfully argue over whose turn it was to pay.  I miss the long hugs we would share after being apart all day; I would nuzzle my head into his soft shoulder and breath in his scent, and he would tighten his embrace and lean his head against the top of mine. I miss falling asleep next to him; we would tangle our legs together and whisper nonsensical pillow talk back and forth. I miss waking up next to him; I would feel so happy and content watching his sleeping head softly breath in and out.    

I miss all those little things that, though seemingly insignificant at the time, accumulate to form the most important element of our relationship: our bond with one another. Those little things are the difference between him and every other guy I've ever been with. Those little things are why I love him so much.

After I drove home from the theater, I sat in my car and cried for for a while. I guess in every long-distance relationship, its counterparts will inevitably reach their breaking point, and I had finally reached mine. Before this, I was being stoic. I was trying to ignore Geof's absence and concentrate on the future, a technique that evidentially won't work forever.  

I looked at my phone, and tears streamed down my cheeks. My phone has become the manifestation of our relationship. All of those little things that make us work so well have been replaced by text messages and phone conversations about nothing in particular. He is becoming just a voice. His persistent "I love you"s are starting to fall on crude ears, his quite manner is failing to translate over the line. Our empty wishes of togetherness continue to go unanswered.

I am overwhelmingly frustrated.

Next time I go to the movies with my friends, I will insist that we see Friday the 13th.