Abyss, n. 

There are times when I doubt everything. When I regret everything you’ve taken from me, everything I’ve given you, and the waste of all the time I’ve spent on us.

Aloof, adj.

It has always been my habit, ever since junior high school, to ask that question: “What are you thinking?” It is always an act of desperation, and I keep on asking, even though I know it will never work the way I want it to.

“Just be warned,” you said. “Someday you’ll ask me to give up something I really love, and then it’s going to get ugly.”

Autonomy, n.

“I want my books to have their own shelves,” You said, and that’s how I knew it would be okay to live together.

Caveat, n.

“I will be the one to leave you”- you whispered it to me as a warning. Fifth date? Sixth date? I was sure in my heart that you were wrong. I was sure I’d be the one to kill it. But I kept that belief to myself.

Corrode, v.

I spent all this time building a relationship. Then one night I left the window open, and it started to rust.

Doldrums, n. 

The proper verb for depression is sink.

Exacerbate, v.

I believe your exact words were: “You’re getting too emotional.”

Hiatus, n.

“It’s up to you,” you said, the graciousness of the cheater towards the cheatee. I guess I don’t believe in a small break, I feel a break is a break, and if it starts small, it only gets wider. So I said I wanted you to stay, even though nothing could stay the same.

Leery, adj.

Those first few weeks, after you told me, I wasn’t sure we were going to make it. After working for so long on being sure of each other, sure of this thing, suddenly we were unsure again. I didn’t know whether or not to touch you, sleep with you, have sex with you.

Finally, I said, “It’s over.”

Only, adj.

That’s the dilemma, isn’t it? When you’re single, there’s the sadness and joy of only me. And when you’re paired, there’s he sadness and joy of only you.

Persevere, v.

Those first few weeks, after you told me, I wasn’t sure we were going to make it. After working for so long on being sure of each other, sure of this thing, suddenly we were unsure again. I didn’t know whether or not to touch you, sleep with you, have sex with you.

Finally, I said, “It’s over.”

You started to cry and I quickly said, “No - I mean this part is over. We have to get to the next part.”

Quixotic, adj.

Finally, I said, “It’s over.”

You started to cry and I quickly said, “No - I mean this part is over. We have to get to the next part.”

And you said, “I’m not sure we can.”

Rubberneck, v.

It’s not only car accidents. Why is it only car accidents? It can also be when I lean over you in the morning, trying to see through the sliver of open window shade to find out what the weather is like. Cranes, the birds with the rubber necks, don’t always find carnage. Sometimes it’s just rain.

Traverse, v.

You started to cry and I quickly said, “No - I mean this part is over. We have to get to the next part.”

And you said, “I’m not sure we can.”

Without even having to think about it, I replied, “Of course we can.”

“How can you be so sure?” you asked.

And I said, “I’m sure. Isn’t that enough?”

Vagary, n.

The mistake is thinking there can be an antidote to the uncertainty.

Voluminous, adj.

I have already spent roughly five thousand hours asleep next to you. This has to mean something.

Whet, v.

You kiss me when you get home, and I kiss you back longer, harder, you say, “Later, dear. Later.”

So I have decided that being in a long distance relationship is like being:

single

and in a relationship

with only the cons of both.

“If you’re still scared now there’s nothing you can do except for hold onto me and take a leap of faith. But I am promising you that I will hold on tight right back and never let go of you and do whatever it takes to keep you mine.”

i’m in love, i’m in love all the time.