Home Is Where The Heart Is
"THIS bus, it saved me, it's a hug, it's home." That's a quote from the video on our homepage today, "The Hope Bus," and you should check it out if you haven't seen it yet. Amanda was inspired by that quote to write to us today about what home means to her . . .
He kissed me goodbye. The hole in my heart reappeared within seconds of climbing into the car and beginning the 200 mile drive “home.” The ache brought a rush of familiarity - separated again. LDR became a familiar term to me that was coined in the blog world for long distance relationship. From the moment we met, we were fated to a LDR; him in Boston, me in the farthest point of Connecticut.
If only I had known how difficult every “see you soon” would be, then maybe I wouldn’t have let him in my heart. But six months in, he filled me with a happiness that I didn’t know was possible. His corny jokes made me giggle like a schoolgirl; his gentlemanly ways and charm reminded me that chivalry still exists; and his simple gestures confirmed that romance is very much alive.
Fridays couldn’t come soon enough, and Sunday nights brought dread, pain, and sadness. Being in love is one thing, but being in love and not getting to enjoy the mundane moments like non-LDR couples might have brought some resentment when seeing others holding hands on a work night. Instead, our evenings consisted of routines separate of each other: gym, dinner, then a short phone conversation before bed.
We had a routine. Fortunately, technology allowed for constant texting, gChatting, Skype dates, and phone calls to make the miles seem less daunting. We alternated weekends between Connecticut and Boston, but that didn’t ease the exhaustion of the bumper to bumper traffic on Friday evenings and long drive ahead for one of us while the other impatiently waited for their other half’s arrival.
When the Sunday night goodbye would come though, I began to understand that love wasn’t just a feeling for me or him; it was home. Our love made us whole, and no matter what state we were in, we were home with one another. So the tears, the pain, the hole in my heart, all were simply an incomplete home.
There’s a happy ending to all of the heartache though. After a year and two months of not being home, he accepted a job offer and shrunk the 200 miles to no miles. Despite the challenge of a LDR, among many lessons learned, I now know that where isn’t home, but who can be home, as long as your heart feels full and happy.
