Long Distance Relationships: Staying Grateful Through the Goodbyes

Long Distance, Big Feelings, and Even Bigger Gratitude

To all my long-distance relationship homies—this one’s for you.

Let’s be real… being in a long-distance relationship isn’t easy. In fact, some days it’s downright heartbreaking. I’m writing this just a couple of days before I have to fly back home. My boyfriend lives 2,000 miles away, and even though we’ve done this for months now, saying goodbye doesn’t seem to get easier. If anything, it gets harder.

Right now, I’m walking in beautiful Colorado, trying to come back to a place of gratitude. The spring weather is perfect, the mountains are stunning, and my daily walks here have become such a grounding part of my routine. But even with all this beauty around me, there’s a heaviness in my chest that only those in long-distance relationships truly understand.

Still, I am grateful—so deeply grateful—for the opportunity to see him at all. I know it’s not something everyone in a long-distance relationship gets. Thanks to the support of family and friends, I’m able to fly out and spend about a week with him each month. That’s huge. I never want to lose sight of how much of a gift that is.

But separation still hurts. I think I thought it would get easier. Like, maybe I’d build up a tolerance to goodbyes. But the truth is, every time we part ways, I feel it deeper. Maybe because I know what to expect now. Maybe because I love him even more every time I see him.

And I really do adore him.

We’ve reunited after many years—high school sweethearts turned soulmates. Every moment I spend with him, I fall even more in love. It’s a relationship that feels safe, steady, and genuine. We trust each other, fully. One thing that really makes our relationship work is that we’re both sober. No bars, no parties, no substances—nothing that would ever put us in a situation that could compromise our trust. That’s something we’ve both committed to, and it gives our relationship such a solid foundation.

There’s also an end goal. This long-distance phase is temporary. Sometimes I have to remind myself of that. We’ve already made it eight months—only a few more to go. But this goodbye feels heavier, maybe because I know the time until our next visit will be longer than usual. That makes the ache a little more intense.

I also wanted to get honest about something personal. When I return home, life picks up again. My daily routine, my work, my environment—it all slowly pushes me back into “solo mode.” And sometimes I catch myself thinking about him less, which stirs up all sorts of inner noise.

Thoughts like… Is this really going to work? Are we even compatible long-term?
I start to worry. Not because he gives me a reason to—but because I’ve been hurt before.

The last time I lived with a boyfriend was one of the darkest periods of my life. If you’ve read any of my past posts about my narcissistic ex, you’ll understand why the idea of someone moving in with me again brings up so much fear. But this relationship is so different. He’s nothing like my ex. And more importantly, I’m nothing like the girl I used to be.

Still, trauma has a way of whispering doubts even when things are good. So I’m learning to separate the past from the present, and remind myself that love doesn’t have to come with pain. Healing just takes time.

And yet… when I’m with him, all the noise disappears. The fear melts away. He feels like home. There’s a peace when we’re together that I’ve never experienced before.

I trust God. And I know I’ll be okay.

As the time to leave gets closer, my mind jumps ahead—planning, packing, anticipating the sadness of goodbye. I’m a future-thinker by nature, so even days before I leave, I start bracing myself for the emotions. It’s hard. But I try to ground myself in the moment—deep breaths, present thoughts, and gratitude. Sometimes I just sit and look at him, soaking in everything about him and how much I love doing life with him.

The drive to the airport is usually the most emotional part. It’s an hour and a half of quiet turbulence in my heart. But something that helps is shifting my focus to what’s next. I start making plans. I give myself tasks—things that will keep me occupied, things that actually matter. This time, I’ve got a big spring cleaning ahead of me, and it’s more than just clearing clutter. I’m preparing for a new chapter. It feels like a fresh start, and I want my space to reflect that.

So if you’re also in a long-distance relationship, or if you’ve ever been in one, I’d love to hear how you handle the separation. What helps? What works for you and your partner? Feel free to drop a comment below or reach out through the contact form—I’d genuinely love to connect.

Because truthfully? Long-distance is hard. But it’s also a testament. A testament to commitment, to growth, and to choosing love even when it’s inconvenient. I believe the distance makes the bond stronger. It forces you to communicate better, to cherish the small things, and to never take a moment for granted.

I pray we always hold that perspective. That we never forget how precious life is, especially when shared with the people we love most.

I thank God for every experience—every reunion, every tear, every lesson. I know even the hardest moments are a part of something beautiful being built.

With love,
Maisha Marie