She. Her. Girl. Mine.

I can’t get her out of my mind. As clichéd as that is, it is the truth. And it is killing me

The reaction is always the same:

Person: “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
Me: “Yeah, she lives in Maine.”
Person: “For real?”
Me: “Yeah”
Person: “Oh… I’m sorry.”

I have gone for almost three months without seeing her. That is more than one should be allowed to bear.

It hasn’t always been this bad. I have this innate ability to catalogue and prioritize all the crazy things floating around in my head. This means that for the most part I have relegated the long distance relationship to the back of the pack. Not her, just the fact that the distance is there. I look at it as just a natural part of this relationship. It’s as natural as my overly critical view of myself sometimes. That’s just the way it is.

Until a month and a half ago that is.

This little worm of a thought entered my mind and whispered sweet sounding syllables to me. “It’s not that long till you can see her again. There’s more time behind you that ahead.” The damage was done. The frustration began to build. Frustration that took for itself two forms, one in the physical and one in the mental. Mental frustration arising from knowing that I cannot have what I desire. Physical frustration that stemmed from this and also from the fact that I live in a culture that is filled with images and words that show the beautiful people being beautiful together. TV, movies, books, newspaper, even real life for crying out loud all paint this picture. The chemicals in my brain have conspired to mutiny. I am no longer in control. When I close my eyes I see her. I have phantom feelings of her holding me, kissing me. I can smell her, taste the air around her. The dreams of her have returned. Thoughts are interrupted. Incoherent.

I am incapable of stopping it. The incessancy of it all is more than I can handle.

I ache to the depths. Relief is only found in her arms.