Swimming (3 Key Elements of a Thriving Long-Distance Relationship)

For the first time in my life, I am somebody's girlfriend.  It took time; but really, the whole thing happened quite fast.  Given my lack of experience and because I usually put 100% into my relationships, I was unwilling to jump into this.  But within a few months of knowing him, there I was – a "girlfriend."

About a month in, it became a long-distance relationship.  Most college relationships become "long-distance" when break roles around, but this is different.  For us, the holidays began a year-long separation.  I went to Europe when school started up again in the Spring, and he will be in Europe when school begins again in the Fall – this is called, I hear, the "Austria year."  It's summer now so I suppose we're about halfway through.

I remember, when I began dating, a friend of mine sent a text message to congratulate me.  The conversation wasn't very memorable, short as it was, but I do remember one thing very clearly – when she found out about our study abroad plans, she warned me that couples don't usually survive the Austria year.  As you may imagine, I ended the conversation pretty quickly after that.  I couldn't help but text my boyfriend to tell him that something was upsetting me.  So we talked on the phone about it for awhile, and we both decided we could make it through the separation.  We wanted to.

Over six months later, the two of us are stronger together than we were before.  With every trip-up and rough night, long day and low grade, we shook and stood.  Each messaging session or Skype conversation, however awkward or one-sided – however imperfect, we grew closer.  A long-distance relationship is tough, but it is so incredibly good.  The distance strips away much of the superficiality and in the darkest moments reveals the moonstone underneath.  If the relationship survives the stripping, it comes out alive and beautiful.  It's hard to explain what I mean.

I'm not saying that a long-distance relationship is not romantic.  My boyfriend arranged to have a vase of flowers, a bar of chocolate, and a bottle of wine waiting for me outside my door one day – just because I'd been having a rough time he said.  We wrote letters – I wrote one nearly every day at first while I was in Europe.  Even now, while we're both in the states, we send each other notes and letters just to say: "I love you."

And that's not something that started with distance.  The first letters were exchanged before we were dating.  We had an awkward (and adorable) beginning (if I may boast).  So many thoughts and concerns were discussed and explained in clumsy but naked detail; and when not face-to-face, our feelings were articulated in ink.

I think those letters stood for an important truth of our relationship: he and I – we – are more than just a fling.  Our relationship was not exactly a sudden leap of faith.  Looking back over our relationship so far, I see myself treading water, praying and trusting in God to teach me to swim.  Everything was handled with delicate care and tender precision.  I wanted to get it right.  We both did.  We each want to be with the other long-term, whatever it takes.

While I was in Europe, communication was difficult.  We could not share play-by-play as we usually would.  When we were both awake and available, we might ask what the other was doing that day, but a text message summary could hardly serve.  Letters were invaluable for this purpose.  We can still share in each others' daily lives – successes, failures, frustrations, and contemplations – if weeks later.  In letters, we could express thoughts or feelings that are hard to articulate aloud, for one reason or another, or in a more elegant and meaningful style than a text message could manage.

Sometimes, before I left for Europe, others would advise me to set a day and time for Skype calls to make sure communication happened regularly.  I confess, I fully intended to set appointments.  But it turns out that two people in love will have no trouble setting time aside to see and hear each other.  And can I admit something to you?  I hate Skype.  I hate it with a passion.  You call a person and then suddenly you're staring at their face.  That's pretty much it.  The comfort and cushion of body language and spatial context is non-existent here.  You have to stare at them the whole time or seem distracted (or be legitimately distracted, as I usually was), which is unnatural.  And is video quality ever good?  And yet even so, I would get to missing his face so much that I loved the invention of video chat.  Even at the beginning, when I still felt loathing for the thing, my boyfriend and I had no trouble picking dates off the calendar as we went.  We wanted so much to know the other and experience the other.

We may not have been the solution to each others' problems every time, but we shared in them anyway.  Any concerns we had or daily problems we faced were discussed, even with the timezone trouble.  We were willing and able to share our vulnerability, but I also had to be mature enough to admit that having a boyfriend did not fix everything.  Sometimes I would get off the phone with him and feel like crying my eyes out because I was so lonely and talking to him hadn't seemed to change anything.  I know nothing I could have said lessened his reading homework or improved his track performance.  We just had to plug on, putting credit where it's due.

If anyone asked me what is getting me through this long distance relationship, I'd say, "He is."  And lots of prayer.  I have plenty of doubts and fears – including why this relationship should be any different from others, how could I know that when he does such-and-such it is not like when so-and-so did such-and-such, and what if it goes too far too fast and everything falls to pieces around me: like other relationships in the past, I won't be able to fix it.  But he stands sufficiently for himself as evidence against my objections, each one.  If I took any one little doubt all by itself, it would be enough.  I could dump him on the basis of that one doubt; but I would have to reduce everything that he is to that one doubt, and the truth is that I just can't.  In his entirety – even when I'm frustrated that he has to cut a call short or I'm feeling tired because he's been having a rough time and it's all we talk about – in his entirety, he sets my heart in awe.  He is truly and deeply a human being, and he shares himself exclusively with me.  We are so close and he is so right for me that I cannot imagine breaking up with him.  I would have to load my heart up on Novocaine.  He is a person.  He is worth waiting for.  He is worth supporting until times get better.

When I'm praying, I often ask God to explain what I don't understand, to show me how to be wisely selfless, and to help me love my boyfriend more than he loves me – just for competition sake.  I think he is probably better at consistently praying about and for us, but nonetheless, prayer helps me to remember the moments when I felt sure and confident, and when I remember why I felt like I did then, I feel it again.  Praying allows me to step into my panic and figure out what is lurking there.  More often than not, I find just a speck of dust that hasn't been addressed yet is all that sits at the source.  But when it is more complicated or more elusive, I pray to thank God for the good, and I pray to ask for clarity, and I make a resolution to take my blessed time judging this fear that has crept up on me.

And then I usually talk to my boyfriend about it.

We both know what we want out of life and the visions are more or less compatible.  In the slower moments, we spend time figuring out the details we each personally want for the future, after college and beyond.  We discover ourselves through each other, and I often find that he's talking about details that I haven't figured out yet.  So we discuss them.  We discuss just about everything.

So really, distance isn't all that hard, because we have:

1. True love, if I may be so bold as to presume that which many scoff.  We each want the best for the other, which means a deep knowledge of the other and deep sacrifice of self for the other.  Each fervently wants to be the cause of the other's happiness.
2. Maturity.  Again, I may seem presumptuous but I will declare it anyway.  We may not always act mature, but we try to be mature about our immaturity.  We recover, we discuss, and we go on.  We admit that there is more to life than the bubble of our love, but nothing is too great to fit inside it.  Our relationship is not showy and we do not share it with others (i.e., drama, gossip; e.g., it is not Internet recognized, except for the occasional picture).  At the same time, it does not isolate us from others.
3. A desire to share.  A desire to communicate.  Trust that enables us to do so.  Compatibility of character, experience, education, and aspirations that bind us together.

This isn't a checklist of elements that can just be inserted into the relationship.  These have to be the relationship.  Certainly a long distance relationship can look different from what I have with my boyfriend; but the longing to be with the other, know the other, and love the other – that must be there.  I see no way around it.  And though I know couples often do without, I cannot begin to imagine how a relationship survives without the common ground of God and the common labor for holiness.  You need that grounding in order to truly be one flesh one day.  No matter what interests you have or varying hobbies, the work toward holiness is never done, is never completed.  It's a task, a goal that eternally unites persons, creating that life-long commitment we covet so deeply.

For a while, we held off dating because I was scared, and I used the inevitable distance as an excuse.  I wouldn't say that my fears were foolish, but I know we made the right decision in the end – it was so worth it.  All the rough spots and the moments of panic were worth it.  People doubted; perhaps especially because this was my first relationship, people doubted.  I can't blame them – I doubted too.  But any lasting relationship should have what it takes to brave the distance, and I think that by some miracle I have found that kind of relationship.  Could a couple know that they'll last when they're just starting out?  I'm not sure we could have.  But we learn it day by day.