LDRs

My long distance relationships hurt.  There’s nothing like the buildup as the opportunity to see the object of one’s affection approached.  There’s nothing like the release of emotion when you finally get to see, hear, and touch that voice on the other end of the phone, or the hand that wrote those letters.  After the first day, the little monster called Dread would show up in whichever room the two of you occupied, usually starting out in the corner.  Its rate of growth was inversely proportional to the length of time remaining for the visit, and as it grew the monster would creep to the middle of the room.  One developed the art of pretending Dread wasn’t there.  Eventually though, Dread would force the two of you to acknowledge its presence – with said acknowledgement usually accompanied by a tear - or thirty.  And parting?  Food didn’t taste as good, comedies weren’t as funny, hanging out with friends wasn’t as desirable… …not, at least, until the planning for the next visit had begun.

The internet age has dulled somewhat the excitement of walking quickly (running) to the mailbox as the postman drove off.  Ooooh, and if you actually received a letter from your baby… … life was good.  Of course, there was the slight disappointment to deal with if you didn’t have any mail, but there was always the next day to look forward to.  Of course, IMing and cell phones with mega-minutes have made long distance relationships easier (and cheaper) to manage, but one still has to deal with emotional highs and lows.  I think I’ll just keep the M.R.S. close by.