It’s only been a few days since Christopher left, but it really has felt like a long time.

I have to say however, that though he is far away, and I always wish he were with me, I’ve been very lucky to be able to call him whenever I need/want (the Skype phone he left me and his skype credit on his account have really come in handy) and in that way we’ve remained connected and I don’t feel like he’s too far away at all.

I’m also surrounded by very loving roommates and other friends who keep me from ever being lonely. I think I annoy them by mentioning him all the time but I think to a certain extent, they miss having him around too. It’s always nice having a man around the house.

I miss him most when I go to his now nearly empty apartment and am reminded that he is not there. It’s hard to give that place up because even though I’ve always had my own bed somewhere else, that was *our* place, the place where we built _us_, and I have a really hard time leaving it behind. It’s difficult having to move myself out of that place because it’s one of the last remaining physical reminders of his presence here but otherwise, the crying has been minimal and overall, I’m more filled with a positive anxiousness to talk to him/see him/be with him again than I am with emptiness and loneliness because he is gone. I miss him, but not in a way that fills me with loneliness, despair and sadness as it might have for me in the past. This is a whole new way of missing a special loved one that I don’t think I’ve experienced before.

I had originally thought that I would have to disconnect myself from him in order to be happy being here while he is there. I anticipated feeling left behind, and stranded in a place that I would rather leave so I could move on to a new life with him. But as it turns out, I love my life here, even when he is gone, and I am not wishing I could leave it behind for him like I thought I would. I only look forward to him returning so I can continue to share my love for my life with him. In fact, I think I look at the “me things” that I’d took for granted before in a whole new light and my love and appreciation for them is renewed because I need them more in my life now.

As always, I’d prefer to continue sharing every part of it with Christopher, but the fact that I am still finding a lot of joy in my life here without his physical presence is a big change for me.

I think this separation is much harder on Christopher at the moment because he has lost every semblance of what he considered home since leaving China and is having to rebuild a place from scratch without me, but also without an actual place to settle into yet. It’s a new place, with new challenges and it’s even more daunting to have to do it with a companion. I, on the other hand still have the familiarity of home, albeit not the one that was mine and his, but the one that is mine and my roommates and life here without him is not as daunting as I thought it would be.

I do understand, however, that the only reason for such a relatively easy transition on my part is because I know that I haven’t lost him and will not need to force myself to disconnect myself emotionally from him. This is not a breakup. This is only a temporary separation. It really makes a world of a difference to know that he misses me and wants me back in his daily life just as I do and that we’re doing everything we can to be back together again. It’s comforting to know that there are other acceptable ways for me to love him and miss him that don’t involve simply pining for his presence. While he did leave a gaping hole in my life physically and I would give anything to be able to hold him and take away his homesickness, I’ve still been able to devote all my energy into loving him and planning for our future together.

That’s the wonderful thing about it: though we are apart, we are not without each other. On the contrary, it’s given us even more purpose, more reason to focus all our energy on building our lives around each other.

In this case, absence really has made our hearts grow fonder. And that’s how I know it’s real.