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I’ve had this conversation with more than one person.

Person: “I was in a long distance relationship once.”

Me: “Oh really?”

Person: “Yeah… Man, it had to be the hardest thing I have ever done.”

Me: “I bet. That’s gotta be a tough thing to do.”

Person: “Oh yeah… Oh yeah… Never do it, Car. It’s not worth it.”

Me: “You don’t think so? You don’t think it’s possible to have a good, long-distance relationship?”

Person: “I think it’s rare. Almost miraculous.”

Me: “Wow…”

Person: “I’ll put it this way. Now that I’ve done it, I will never do it again for as long as I live.”

Me: “Gotchya. Loud and clear.”

I am presently in a long-distance relationship, and while I don’t like it and wish like none other that Art was here, I’m perfectly content with the fact that he’s not. I’m not restless or filled with longing. I miss him terribly, don’t get me wrong. Still, the whole situation and the relationship itself feel fine as is.

Of course I look forward to when the only thing between us are a few city blocks and a street or two, but I don’t mind waiting a long while for that to happen.

Maybe I’ll be saying something different another two, maybe three months from now. Maybe I’ll look back on this and say to myself, “How wrong I was! This is the worst!”

Maybe.

But in my heart, I don’t think I will. Because honestly, if you knew the man like I do and understood exactly what who it is I’ve got… Man or woman would glady (happily, gleefully, joyfully, etc.) be in my position.

And that’s all I have to say for now.