long distance blows

It's a crazy part of friendship that for any amount of time, there are people in your life who ARE your life. You count on them for absolutely everything. You wonder how often you can spend time with them before it gets weird. You have actual, sit-down conversations with your spouse (or sometimes even just yourself) about the need to slow down and give them some space. Don't be needy. Don't be too intense. Don't be that guy. 

All I can say is that I'm glad it got weird, even though being apart is now the living worst.

It got weird and that's when things get truly extraordinary. Snowpocalypse sleepovers and Fresh Market picnics, birthday surprises and Mario Party marathons and never-ending group text messages. Weekend trips and late-night stories and new adventures.

It's now officially December which means I'm feeling the feels. The holiday feels. A lot of memories are returning to me of days gone by. Christmas memories from our tiny apartment in Virginia, and of the friends we so dearly miss.

Our friendship with Colinoria (our affectionate nickname for our couple-soulmates Colin and Victoria) was rare. It was fostered under the strangest conditions: living in tiny apartments less than a mile apart while the boys finished up law school. Pre-kids, pre-adulthood, pre-complications. We were in extended college life land. There was work, for sure, and lots of studying. But there was also a lot of play. And through that we were cemented together. Even more so by our uncanny resemblances to one another (me to Colin and Dustin to Victoria). It was straight-up crazy at times, and I think we were all dumbfounded at various points by our great luck at somehow finding each other in this mad world.

Long distance is one of those sucky situations that is often most lamented when it involves romantic couples. But the struggle is real for everyone. Family, friends, loved ones. The world is filled with beautiful people and if you happen to meet kindred spirits on the other side of the country (or world), you're going to have to prepare yourself for the lifelong ache that is long distance. 

Here are my grandiose ideas for surviving a long-distance best friendship:

1. Contact.
This is what group messages are for. Also, these new voice texts have been a life-saver for me because I hate the telephone. But calling is good too. So is FaceTime or Skype. Stay in touch!
(Duh-doy).

2. Gifts.
Maybe you don't have money, but you actually do. You have enough to send something, anything, in the mail. It's important. Maybe more so for a person like me whose love language involves gifts, but it's important nonetheless. Find silly things to send and it maintains those fun little surprises that you were able to create when you lived in the same city. Instead of stopping by with cupcakes, you can send them a letter or a Starbucks card when they're having a rough week. It's a sweet gesture that's inexpensive and incredibly thoughtful, especially when the dominant means of communication today is a never-ending group text (which, as I've already demonstrated, I fully support). Think outside the box.

3. Don't forget the little things.
You lose a lot when you lose the little things. The little things are the tiny threads that begin to pull apart the entire knit sweater of a relationship. They're the ways you used to connect in person because you saw each other almost every day so you shared even the silliest stories with one another. Bring them into your jokes and daily interactions that make you laugh and cry. Tell them about your boss's weird laugh or that super embarrassing doctor visit. Be vulnerable, be real.

4. Reminisce, but not too much.
One of the greatest detriments of long distance is that it naturally prevents growth. Unless you work hard to keep moving forward. Long distance keeps you apart and living in the past, because that's when you were last together. Talking about favorite memories is a wonderful way to connect, but make sure the focus is staying connected to where your lives are going. Walk with them from afar.

5. Have a shared interest.
This summer it was Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson. All four of us read it (and the sequel) and talked about it incessantly. It was such a fun way to participate in something as a group. We used to have weekly TV nights for shows like New Girl and Sleepy Hollow, so having something we can still do "together" is really nice.

6. Visit each other. 
This is the hardest part, because now that we're all working and paying off our student loans, money is tight and time off is sparse. But just like anything else, you make it a priority. You save and you make it happen. It has been six months and two weeks since the four of us were together, and we're beginning to plan the first of many visits! It's probably the most crucial part of a long distance relationship, because you put your money where your priorities are. For a while that top priority will be paying off our debt - but we'll keep fitting money between the cracks to keep this friendship alive.

Because it got weird, and it got great, and it's worth everything.

Long distance blows. (But it's worth it).

soulhome

A friend of mine once mused, If there are soulmates, maybe there are soulhomes, too. 

A soulhome. What a romantic thought. A place where your heart is destined to rest, a special and mysterious location where your soul has intricate ties. 

I personally don't really believe in soulmates. The One. 

I think relationships take work, you choose to love. I do think that my husband and I are great together, and that I prayed for him from the time that I was a little girl. I knew I would marry someone someday, and I wanted to make sure God knew all of my requirements, things like "loves Big Red gum". 

I don't think anyone could ever love and appreciate me the way my husband does. In all my weirdness. I cherish him. Sometimes I like to say we're soulmates, because he's my one, the man I've chosen. We work hard at our relationship, and our commitment to each other has been blessed. 

But as far as real soulmates go? I believe we as humans are irrevocably flawed, and therefore if there even could be such a thing as soulmates, we would have ruined that whole deal a long long time ago. We would have married the wrong people and messed up the soulmate order for everyone. 

I remember thinking about that when I was around 10 or 11. I had a moment of pure panic, thinking of someone accidentally marrying my soulmate before I got to him.

Perhaps the first and only soulmates in the history of the world were Adam and Eve, and we all know how that turned out. 

But let's imagine for a second that soulmates and, more importantly, soulhomes are real.

Each one of us has, imprinted on our heart, a place that belongs to us. 

Born into the world with locks around our soul, a golden key is tossed out into the universe. And the moment we step into that place, the great expanse of desert in Arizona, the rolling green hills of Ireland, the towering sky-rises of New York, we hear that click. 

And we are unlocked. 

It's an absolutely stunning thought.

A lifelong quest to find each other, you and that distant land of destiny. 

I think I've experienced similar feelings of serendipity, which could easily be heaped into that nebulous overwhelming wanderlust. 

I think for most people though, myself included, a soulhome would be the place we've spent most if not all of our lives. There's a definite bond between a person and where they were born. 

Arizona is my place. The desert is where I have always belonged, it's where I feel most enchanted and most at ease. I understand it and appreciate it for all that it is. I feel really lucky in that way.  

But I've also lived other places and traveled to countries that I have fallen in love with. There are those dreamy trips that make us all swoon (Hollywood-driven, most likely), just imagining what the Eiffel Tower must be like in person, or thinking of riding in a Gondola in Venice. Growing up as an O'Neil and loving all things Irish, I would definitely say that Ireland was my dream place to live for a very long time. Irish blessings hung on my walls, green was my favorite color, Gerard Butler in P.S. I Love You is my favorite ever. 

Over the last few years of traveling, I've had my moments of, I could do this. I could live here for keeps. 

One of my favorite terms for my friends is kindred spirits. Unlike the idea of soulmates, I heartily believe and support the idea of kindred spirits. They exist all over the world, and come sneaking into your heart even when you least expect to find them. 

Arizona is my soulhome, but maybe I can allow my heart to find kindred places, too.

And what a long, lovely list of kindreds that will be.