No importa la distancia.


I am sitting on my bedroom floor, stacking books onto a shelf while on Skype with one of my favorite people, when it hits me–in a little over an hour I will leave my apartment and drive to the airport, where I will pick up my mom and baby sister (whom I haven’t seen in two and a half years) and my grandma (whom I haven’t seen in a year). Time flies, and I’m beginning to think that time, rather than mileage, makes up the vastness of the distance between me and many people I love.

People are moving in and out of my life like the tide, and as I navigate all of those changes I realize that I have greatly underestimated the depth of some of my feelings for them, and that I have doubted the reciprocity in those relationships as I struggled with establishing my own self-worth.

All that I can do now is pray that it’s not too late, that I haven’t run out of time, that I can still say all of the things I want to say before oceans (of water but also busyness) once again separate us.


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