EPTOther than that bit of displeasure, our relationship continued flowering wonderfully. We became closer and closer to eachother, our feelings growing stronger over the remainder of the year. I would not say that we were truly in love at this point, as I believe no love can be then. It takes a long time to get to know someone well enough to truly love them, not just intensely like them and how the relationship makes you feel. It was intense adoration and something a bit stronger than puppy love, though, and it grew. Despite that the most intimate of our physical contact was giddy moments of secretly holding hands and closeness, we were content in that way. We continued living as we did before, mostly in our letters and in person during those hidden, but uplifting times. However, all physical intimacy was soon to end.
With about a month of warning, my parents decided we were going to move. This wouldn't be the first time our family did so (we'd moved a total of six times beforehand) but it was the first time I cared. My parents knew this, and so, sat me down in their room for a few hours and gave me the choice.
Before I go any further, I want to say that I'm glad I grew up with the parents I did. They've always been respectful, considerate, and relaxed with me and my siblings. Their policy on drugs/alcohol was that if we were curious, we could tell mom and she'd go get whatever it was, and we could try it out at home. Figured that if we were curious we'd do it anyway, might as well be in a safe place when it happens. I never took up on any of the offers, but I've seen my siblings do so on numerous occasions.
The point I'm trying to make is, they let us grow without trying to tell us to do, giving us their knowledge and then giving us our own choices instead of recommending or setting a certain path for us to follow. Let us learn through experience rather than through someone elses eyes, and then use our smarts and their knowledge afterwards to sort things out if they went personally wrong. I liked growing up like that.
To continue, I was given the choice as to where we would move, so to speak. More specifically, how far away we would go. We would either be moving far away or be moving close by. My parents left it up to me, as they knew of my relationship with Jacqueline.
But, I knew that they hated where we were, that there were personal problems between them that they wanted to get away from. They never said it to me, but I knew. It was, after all, the whole reason we were going to move in the first place. So, despite desperately wanting to stay close to Jacqueline, I shrugged answers off noncommittally for close to four hours before they finally gave up and decided we were moving far away.
Some may think I look back on that night in regret, but I truly do not. I do wonder what might have been if I'd chosen otherwise, but I don't regret the choice I made. It was the right choice. Not because it was selfless, but because my parents needed it. I don't believe they'd have remained together had they not gotten far enough away to pretend they'd forgotten their troubles there.
The morning we left, I walked down to the bus station with Jacqueline, as we'd been doing together for years. We were both teary-eyed, swallowing constantly, trying not to cry. Trying to be brave in front of eachother. I remember that it was cold out, that I could see my own scattered breathing form in front of me, worrying that it's pattern would tell of my distress. She had on a jacket and I had on just short sleeves, because I'd rushed out to go with her. She tried to warm me as we hugged eachother tight.
We stayed that way until the bus came. I wanted to tell her to stay with me, give us that little time we had left, but I knew things would be easier if I didn't. I saw her break down into tears as she boarded the bus, and I couldn't hold them back any longer either. We made the symbol for love one last time before she got on the bus, and I stood there watching as it drove away. A few hours later, I was crammed into a car, feeling numb and weary, going somewhere new and leaving everything behind. That may sound overly dramatic, and to a point, it is. But, it is how I felt then and how I would feel now to an even stronger degree, if I thought I was truly never going to see her again.
Over the next six months, my family traveled from place to place, not keeping a permanent residence for long. I wrote Jacqueline as oft as I could during this time, but because of our constant movement, it was a monologue. It wasn't until the end of that six months, when my mother got pregnant with my youngest sibling, Ryan, that we moved into an actual house in Louisville, KY. I gave my love our new address, and the passing of letters became our relationship in full, except even that was less intimate than before, as the hands that did the passing were those of the mail carriers, not our own.
Distance, like any hardship, is something that cannot be appreciated until it is experienced first-hand. A common adage is apt for such, even though most find such sayings cliche. "You don't know what you have until it's gone." You can appreciate what you have while you have it, there is no doubt about that. But, there's a difference between liking and longing for something. I didn't fully appreciate those words until I felt the empty spots where there used to be wonderful times. Until I felt that gap inside my day-to-day life that was unreachable, but ever on the mind.
Anyone whose ever lost anything dear knows what it feels like and can appreciate that distance, except this distance is one of a constant, wavering hope, and, in some purely emotional ways, worse. When you truly lose something, at least there isn't the torture of knowing that the distance can be closed. There is in a long-distance relationship, which is why I spoke at the beginning of my last post as I did; I do not fault those who give up. It is not an easy way to live.
Despite all of those, we still had our letters. Our connection continued to grow, though it lacked a crucial physical element that I didn't even know existed at the time to make all of it truly complete. I thought we were in the worst of times, to be out of it in a few years and be in happiness together. I was half right. That happiness is coming, and is proving to be happier than ever. But, those were not the worst of times.
Out of the hardest times comes the richest experience. That part is next, then it's back to happier things. Promise.
