Distance. Until recently I had never given much thought to the distance across the United States. Sure, it's big. Do you realize that 2,378 miles lie between my home in Michigan and Vancouver, British Columbia? That's 40 hours of solid driving. I've checked. My bum gets sore just thinking about it.
Why does the distance between my home and Vancouver matter? Because my heart is tied to a man in Vancouver. We joke that recent earthquake activity keeps pushing us closer together. I laugh, but it's hollow. The distance isn't funny.
We tease on Twitter, chat off and on during the day and sometimes share the wee hours of my mornings talking on the phone (The time difference is a bitch.) We plot and plan.
And I wonder, if he lived closer...what?
I would have seen him.
I will see him.
Soon. *shivery shivers*