To my "he"...

Some people call it a long-distance relationship. Lately I've found a few new names for it... Too Much Fun, Ridiculous, Difficult, and "wait, what?"

Both long distance and short distance (any distance really) are similar to culture shock. At the beginning there's a euphoria and honeymoon-ish cluster of emotions that bubble and burst.... and then real life hits and there's confusion, frustration, and one too many blank stares. When the he or she on the other end of the phone (or for short distance, the he or she sitting across the table from you at Starbucks), suddenly loses the glow that seemed to radiate from their ever perfect and presentable person. They lose their splendor and it becomes harder to love them. Loving all of a sudden becomes a choice, not an action motivated by shallow romance and euphoric feelings. And the most reality biting thought throughout all of this is that you, the one they call their other... YOU have lost your angelic glow and have been exposed as a flawed and maybe even selfish human being that is just as difficult (or maybe even more difficult) to love.

Yet choosing to love them, even when it is the last thing I want to do, is something I've decided is a lot more fun and much more beautiful. It's a little something that holds true with everyone we interact with, and yet here it is to a different and deeper degree than I've ever experienced it.

In the midst of finding myself "back from my honeymoon", I enjoy our time together still. Good conversations, honest thoughts, coffee shops, reading, movies, roadtripping, singing together, being still, taking pictures, and laughing. It's the simple things we do that i really love most.

To my he, thanks for looking past my selfishness and choosing to serve me through your actions and hope-filled words.