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A Bad Day In The Life Of A Serial Long-Distance Lover

Speed multiplied by time. That's how mathematicians calculate the distance between two points. 

But, I feel like distance should be relative. For me, it should be 130 miles to Goromonzi if I’m going there for field research. About 180 miles if I’m going to the same place to meet my mother after my last day at college and at least 300 miles if I’m not moving, but simply thinking about how much space there is between me and my farmer-boyfriend. 

In reality, we’re about 130 miles apart but it doesn't make sense to me that distance is cast in stone. That someone can speak of the distance between lovers in the same way they speak about the distance between two buildings. 

Now, after a month of not seeing one another, my boyfriend tells me he can’t make our planned meet-up. On days like this, love feels less like a soft kiss on the cheek and more like an oversized, rusty metal ball chained too tightly around my heart. I read the message and start cursing under my breath about how relationships shouldn't be this difficult. But I don't know how to say this or anything to him yet.

Then by the evening my boyfriend decides he can free up his day after all! What changed? Not much, except he probably reasoned that when your overthinking girlfriend is having a bad day, you need to swoop in as fast as you can, if possible. That’s what I imagine happened, at least, but I can’t speak for him much.