I still believe in happily ever afters

I have been in a relationship for, I don’t know, maybe six and a half years? I lost count after 60- something months. It was such a brilliant idea to count by months until I realized how hard it was to keep track of the number of months we’ve been together.

We have been apart for two years, eight months and six days. He’s back home and I’m here in Jersey. Yes, LDR.

So how is it? Being in a long distance relationship?

It was hard at first. I was always crying. I felt so alone. God, you don’t know how many times I called him because I needed to hear his voice only to end up getting in a huge argument with him. But I guess I’ve adjusted to him not being a part of my life here. We usually talk twice a month. You read that right, a month, not a week. We’ve only chatted four times and emailed about, maybe 15 times? And yes, we’re still together.

How do you know that he’s not cheating on you?

I don’t. And honestly, I don’t really see the point in driving myself nuts thinking about what he might be doing while I’m 8,000 miles away. It just causes stress. It’s going to eat me up. I believe what he says. Unless anyone can prove otherwise, I’m giving my trust to my man.

Wow, you’re one of the lucky ones. Most people I know would’ve broken up by now.

Thanks. I try to make it work.

That’s what I always say to people who ask me about being in a long distance relationship.

But now I’m just so tired of it.

So here it is.

The truth.

Our story is pretty much an open book anyway. Those who matter know every twist and turn of our story.

The way I see it, things haven’t been going well.

We rarely speak, sometimes going a month without any communication. It’s not because I don’t want to talk to him. It’s more of me being too busy with work and home. You all know I have to care for my son but I also have to be the parent for my two sisters and my brother. So I start my day at 4:45 and end it at 11:00 if I’m lucky. I’m on the phone for most of the day and the last thing I want to do when I get home is spend $4.50 for a 40-minute phone call. And when I do make time to call, we don’t have anything to talk about because most of the time, I’m zoning out. Like, I don’t even know the people he’s talking about. It’s like he has his own thing going on and I have my own life.

I’m also very irritable when I’m on the phone with him. How many times does he have to say, “Yun laaang...” and “Ano na?” Argh!

I have been asking him forever to write me a letter and send me pictures and three years later, he still hasn’t done it.

Now tell me, how hard it is to write a letter? Or mail a card? Or shoot an email? Or even post a comment on a profile? Even my eight-year old can do it!

One day it just hit me.

Do I even love him anymore?

I don’t miss him, I don’t think of him, I don’t even care if I speak to him or not. I must be going crazy. Here’s this guy who cares for my children and had asked me to marry him (Did I tell you about the so-called proposal? Remind me to tell you sometime.) and I’m just throwing it away! I’m not getting any younger; most of my friends have settled down; I’m probably going to be a single mom for life!

So I went and told him what I was thinking: I honestly don’t see the point in continuing this relationship. I’m just not happy. I’m not sure if I still love you.

He wouldn’t give up.

He wouldn’t let me go.

So we decided to spend a week together and see if the magic will come back. We went to Hong Kong, just the two of us, and tried to get to know each other again. I remember feeling so excited and nervous at the same time that I felt like throwing up.

While I was on the 16-hour flight, I was thinking of how I should react when I see him. Should I run to him in slow motion like they do in the movies? Should I stare at him, unable to speak, while tears of joy are streaming down my face? I was so excited!

When I got to the airport I couldn’t find him and had to use a pay phone to call him and let him know where I was. And when I finally did see him, I was just…normal. Like I-just-saw-you-yesterday normal. Which I really think was weird specially since he was so happy to see me. I can tell that he really missed me. He kept saying, “Three years! Three years!” And I didn’t want to just stand there while he was hugging me so I hugged him back and pasted a smile on my face. But all the while I was thinking, who is this guy?

The entire week I was trying so hard to bring it back. To pretend everything was the same. But it just didn’t work. He’s just not the same person I left three years ago. He even looks different. I don’t want to admit it but it’s like he’s more of a friend and not like the man I will be sharing the rest of my life with.

When it was time for us to go home, I felt a little sad to see him go. And that’s when I realized that maybe I had just gotten so used to being by myself that it’s going to take more than a week for me to adjust to being with him again. After all, it’s been three years. Sounds sensible right?

Or not.

Maybe I just don’t want to accept the truth that we had simply grown apart. Just another couple that further substantiates the claim that LDRs never work.

I think I’m having a hard time dealing with it because there’s no one to blame for it. No other woman who took my place, no lover who swept me off my feet. Just Anne. Just Girrard. I don’t think either of us even realized that we were drifting towards this.

But when I think of really throwing in the towel, of saying the words out loud, of actually ending it, I feel pain. Like my heart feels cold and I feel like throwing up.

I guess a part of me is still hoping that things will work out and that this is just a phase that we’re going through. I’m hoping that somehow, this will make our relationship stronger. And that it will make us work a little harder to keep things going.

I need to be around people I’ve known all my life.

I need to slow down.

I need to be home.