„One day there won't be train tickets, airport goodbyes, countdown apps, or FaceTime calls before bed. One day we'll be arguing over whose turn it is to do the dishes instead. And honestly? I can't wait.“
Coming home after a stressful day at university. Receiving exciting news. Finding a new recipe you want to try. Lying awake at night with a thousand thoughts running through your head. These are all moments I wish I could share with Paul every day.
But I can't.
Because I live in Innsbruck, and Paul lives in Frankfurt am Main.
I've already written about why I think it's important not to hold your partner back from opportunities and why long distance can sometimes be the right choice. And honestly, if Paul and I had to make this decision all over again, we would choose to go long distance again.
But today I want to talk about something else. The lonely part.
Paul and I have technically been long distance for our entire relationship.
We met in Copenhagen in September, became a couple in November, and by February we were already living in different countries. I stayed in Copenhagen until August while he moved back to Munich, and for the past two and a half years we've continued our relationship across different cities, countries, airports, train stations, friend groups, and apartments.
So it's safe to say we're no strangers to long distance. And to be completely honest with you: It sucks.
Of course, there are benefits. You get to follow your own opportunities. Build your own life. Make your own experiences. Become friends with people in different cities. Learn independence. Improve communication. Strengthen trust. And when you finally see each other again, every visit feels special.
But if I'm being honest, none of those benefits fully make up for missing the person you love. People often assume the hardest part is the distance itself. For me, it's the everyday moments. It's calling Paul while I'm eating dinner and he's commuting home from work, knowing that what I really want is for us to be sitting at the same table together. It's finishing a difficult exam and not being able to celebrate together. It's having a bad day and wishing he could simply walk through the front door.
It's all the little moments that don't seem important until you realize you're experiencing them alone.
And yes, compared to generations before us, we have it easy. We have FaceTime. We can send voice messages. We live in the same time zone.
Technically, if something went horribly wrong, we could reach each other within four hours. But anyone who has looked up last-minute train tickets between Innsbruck and Frankfurt knows that "technically" and "realistically" are two very different things.
And then there's the uncertainty. At least for now, we don't have a date circled on a calendar that says: "This is when long distance ends."
In about thirteen weeks, I'll be moving to Malta for six months. Paul doesn't know exactly how long his internship will continue because extensions only happen in three-month increments. He still has to finish his Master's degree. I still have to finish my Bachelor's ... And sometimes that uncertainty feels heavier than the distance itself.
Of course, we've found a few ways to make it easier. But to be honest, they really only make it manageable. Because the truth is that long distance is lonely sometimes. Not because your relationship is bad. Not because you don’t have friends of your own. And definitely not because you're doing something wrong.
Simply because the person you want to share your life with the most isn't physically there.
Long distance isn't easy-peasy lemon squeezy. It's hard work. It's patience. It's missing someone. It's choosing each other over and over again.
But I also believe there will be an end to it.
One day there won't be train tickets, airport goodbyes, countdown apps, or FaceTime calls before bed. One day we'll be arguing over whose turn it is to do the dishes instead. And honestly? I can't wait.
So if you're currently in a long-distance relationship and wondering whether anyone else feels lonely sometimes too: They do. I do.
And despite all the hard parts, I still believe it will be worth it in the end.
