subject line: 3,073.9 miles apart

 
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not the pacific northwest

You’re moving back to Seattle. I know you want to pretend like you might not go that far or you might not be leaving soon. But you are. You’re going to land the job. You’re going to move back home. You’ll see the mountains and the snow and the pine trees and you’ll hike every weekend and bike up and down the trails and fall in love with your life again. And I will be on the other side of the country wishing I was with you. I will be loving you and waiting for a call and waiting for a FaceTime and planning a trip that I know I can never afford. I want to drop my life and come with you, but you haven’t asked me to come. You’ve talked about me joining you later. You’ve talked about how much I will love the PNW and you’ve told me all about the marketing jobs you are sure I can land. But you haven’t said the three words I have been patiently waiting to hear you say.

”Come with me.”

I hope we make it. I hope we do long distance and I finish my lease and I join you in the Pacific Northwest and we get that Golden Doodle and we make music together and you and I can hike together every weekend and drink the best coffee and create a life together in the right time and in the right place.

Until then I will listen to Tom Rosenthal when I miss you. I will answer every FaceTime. I will search for jobs in Seattle. And I won’t give up on us.

Like the Avett Brothers say ever so sweetly,
“And I’ve known others and I’ve loved others too, but I loved them cause they were stepping stones on a staircase to you”