#long distance relationships
“distance makes the heart grow fonder”
has always been a lie…
distance makes the heart grow weary
of waiting on replies
I sit here, alone, wondering when the next time I am going to see you. If it will all be the same as those magical nights or if all will be different. The wonderment of it all floating within unable to be controlled until the moment our eyes meet once again.
You broke my heart too many times for me to blindly trust you yet again. So this time you will have to prove to me that I am your first choice. I am what you want. I am the one you cant stop thinking about. That I matter to you…so chase me to the ends of the earth. Fall in love with me and show me that it is okay to just let go…
If you have read anything on my blog then you know how hard it is to be in a relationship with someone that lives in a different country. Mozart and I are doing great in Ireland, but it is on a time limit. My visa will run out and then he and I will be back at square one… in two different countries, struggling to keep things together. We always had the dream of traveling together, and it has been his dream to travel the world for a year. And while I would love to be able to spend that year with him, dreams quickly become realities when it comes to the finances. I have saved some money but with this move to Ireland, with not being able to find a job for a while, I have not been able to save anywhere near enough to the amount that I need, even though we would be traveling on a she string budget. So, it may be silly, but I set up a GoFund me account. If any of you guys feel generous I would really appreciate it. Even a dollar would be able to make all the difference. Thank You in advance and I hope you keep reading my blog! If I am able to go then I will post stories and photographs and all the amazing things I will hopefully learn.
If you want to read more about my story or if you are at all interested in contributing here is the link: gofundme.com/ly19xw
Have a great night!
I miss your warmth. The sunshine buried in your laugh, the way it would shine through your teeth, blinding to my veins. I miss how the moon would get caught in your eyes, how the stars dangled from your bones. The shelter of your arms around me, silencing the chaos of storms. The quiet thunder of your breaths, reminding me I am not alone. I miss your presence, what I once called my home.
After a “short” hiatus, I’m back! Catch me up on all the things!! If I haven’t responded to your messages, I’m sorry, like I said, I’ve been MIA for a while now! My apologies. Love you guys
When you see bae looking all fine after being apart for a while
There’s nothing quite as romantic as praying night prayer with your significant other over the phone as the last thing before going to sleep.
Control doesn’t have a range. It dwells so very much in the cerebral that to insist on the physical element would be to entirely miss the point. The ties that bind you have infinite reserves of slack to call upon if you start to struggle and resist, if you try to pull away. I can reach across continents and stay your hand, calm your heart.
But I’m not going to start throwing out platitudes about how distance makes the heart grow fonder, about how we don't need the physical at all, how it’s just electrons brushing up against one another anyway, and that we never actually touch, just bump against physics. The rope may be long, and you may well be able to feel it around your neck, but it’s a poor substitute for my hand, my lips.
I’ve tried long distance. I’ve made it work, once or twice, but as I find myself becoming more and more embroiled in the powerplay, the exchange of control between the dominant and the submissive, that distance has become more and more of a frustration, and almost a deterrent. I know how much effort it’s going to be, and how much work I’m going to have to put into it, and I have to seriously consider its worth.
My dilemma is such: D/s is a small proportion of the world’s population, a pinprick in a desert, twisting and turning with the dunes. On that pinprick is another, smaller pin, made up of the submissive women of the world, and upon that yet another, of those that I can actually be interested in. And that pinprick on a pinprick on a pinprick is scattered in a million different pieces, across the globe. And now I need to find one of those pieces.
The internet is the best magnifying glass out there, a bloodhound with a killer nose, sniffing each one of you wonderful, exciting, interesting women and showing them to me. But it’s the grand tease, because you’re a world away, an ocean in between.
So I’ve tried it. I’ve made it work. But it’s difficult, and while that leash can easily slip around your neck, fixed from a thousand miles away, keeping it tight, and enjoying the feel of the rope in my hand, is the tricky part.
And that rope is not my hand. And it probably never will be. That’s the hardest part.
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you could make a movie about my life and all you would do is cry.
All you have to say is “i miss you” and I will forget you ever said goodbye.
Scared to fall in love. Scared to lose you. Scared to get hurt. Scared of what we are. And all of this is because I’m missing you.
I thought you would miss me. But I’m not a missable person.
I think that the absolute worst thing, hands down, about long distance relationships, platonic or otherwise, is when your friend feels bad and you can’t just be like “I’ll be there in 20 with a pizza and a shoulder to cry on”
