Real Love Isn’t Always Close — But It’s Always There

Four years of long distance. Six months of living together. One love story that keeps evolving.

If there’s one thing this relationship has taught me, it’s that love doesn’t always follow the traditional path. We met and fell for each other while living in different countries — and somehow, despite the odds, we made it work. Through flights, time zones, voice notes, and late-night calls, we built something real. I’m so grateful our work allowed us to see each other often, and even spend extended months together across different seasons of our lives.

But long distance isn’t easy. It’s made up of lonely weekends, birthdays spent apart, and moments when all you want is a hug and your person — but they’re on another continent. Still, somehow, the love remained.

When we finally lived together for six months, it was a different kind of beautiful. A more grounded, raw, and sometimes chaotic kind of intimacy. It wasn’t just the romance of visits anymore — it was life. Grocery lists, dishes, work meetings, quiet Sundays, and navigating space — literally and emotionally.

And space… now that’s a conversation. We both work from home. We both need room to breathe. I’ve lived alone for a while — not always by choice — but I’ve grown used to my solitude. While traveling, I often felt fulfilled but also very alone. Living abroad has many advantages, but there’s a quiet ache when you miss milestones in the lives of people you love back home. And when you do return home, you realize that maybe that version of “home” doesn’t quite fit anymore.

All of that shaped how I love — and how I’m loved.

Living with my partner brought joy, challenges, and an entirely new rhythm. We weren’t always in sync. We both had our own routines, creative bursts, and energy flows. But we found ways to dance in and out of each other’s orbit. And I think that’s what real love is — not just being in the same space, but learning how to co-exist with respect and care, even when your rhythms differ.

Right now, we’re briefly back in long-distance mode. I just dropped him off at the train station and I already miss him. And yes, I’m the same person who just a few weeks ago needed her space and couldn’t bear another minute of someone in her zone. Love is layered like that. Complex, human, ever-changing.

We’ve agreed to revisit some things when we reunite — especially how to share space while honoring each other’s individuality. But for now, there’s a kind of beauty in this pause. I have dreams to chase. He has adventures to tend to. And yet, our connection remains strong. He truly gives me the freedom to be all of me — and that’s rare. That’s love.

Sometimes I think we forget to cherish the people right in front of us until they’re gone for a little while. Distance gives perspective. It makes you miss the little things. It deepens conversations and reminds you of the magic of presence.

Would I choose this kind of relationship again? Maybe not exactly. But would I choose him again? Absolutely.

Love like this — the kind that stretches, bends, evolves, and respects your becoming — is worth holding onto.