long distance lullaby
It's November. I am in London, and Leah is in New York.
I went across the world because I knew growth was imminent.
She encouraged me to leave because she knew the very same.
But long distance is a dangerous game.
---
In May I was in New York, and Leah was in California.
The city wasn't quite the same without her.
I was angry at the prospect of going months without the one I loved,
and even though I knew it was temporary, I was certainly afraid.
In July I was in Chicago, and Leah was in the mountains.
It was summer and for a moment I forgot the distance,
and was wrapped up in road trips, old friends, and old life.
Leah was hiking in the mountains,
and we began trading text messages for handwritten letters.
The sound of her voice on the phone was a luxury
and I was becoming more aware of how much I savored her beautiful voice.
In September I was in London, and Leah was in New York.
The city wasn't quite the same without me, she said.
We wrote letters every week,
and it became a poetic routine of sending thoughts back and forth across the ocean.
It made the miles less vast, and made the words even more sincere.
---
It's November 23rd. I am in London, and for a few precious days, Leah is in London, too.
In the midst of these months of phone calls, letters, plane travel and visits, I have not only grown to love Leah more, but love her better. I'm using this time to learn how to love maturely, and with enough patience to recognize an important truth:
I don't know what the future will bring, but I do know that this period of time, and this relationship, have been shaping me in important ways.
This particular day was a dream, as I got to pick up Leah from the airport, and subsequently reunite with my beloved friend, Elizabeth Hasier, who took these sweet photos for us. I'm bursting with gratitude.
Most days I don't feel 'thankful' for long distance so much as I feel frustrated, vulnerable, or just sad. But those feelings are nothing in comparison to the way I feel about Leah Cohen.
Marilyn
