I found myself standing in the back of the transportation system on campus known as the BUCSHOT.All the seats were taken.

Luckily, this gave me the opportunity to fumble around on my feet as if I were doing some remix of the tango that I had just invented for the comedic delight of the others standing around me.

Once I was able to retrieve my legs under me, I was allowed the privilege of a front-row seat of quite a show.

A nice couple sat in front of this group and proceeded with kisses upon cheeks and sweet nothings in one another’s ear. This was almost as poetic as how they could care less about those around them.

Our already vulnerable and uncomfortable position was of no interest to their soon-to-be hormonal state.

The idea of this couple canoodling and such while waiting for the arrival of their destination is not what gets to me, it is something deeper. This is more of a catalyst for something that drives a fire that makes me purse my lips with the best of them.

I am in a long-distance relationship.

I am truly grateful that I have found someone that understands every little microcosm of my being and still finds a way to put up with me. She not only puts up with me, she seems to thoroughly enjoy being around me as much as I enjoy being around her. Not only that, but she loves me.

When I am with her, any and every cliché statement about this cuddly idea could be inserted and fit. One that I wish would stick was that one about how time stops when I am with her.

Time continues to move quicker and quicker when we are together.

It gives us just enough time to retain the most wonderful aspect of this human idea, that someone else could possibly enjoy life in the exact same light that you do. There is a transformation that takes place, and she makes me a better person.

The fact that she could slip her hand into mine and something happens when I turn to her. Something that never happens when I hear the truth preached to a backtrack like Rob Bell does or when I see Drew Brees orchestrate his third movement of the Collapse of the Defense. For a brief moment in this times-ten life, time does find a way to slow itself.

Then, just like the ending of a sermon without the answer to a question you really wanted, she is on her way back to Georgia leaving you wanting so much more.

It is not about this physicality that we find ourselves dabbling in and swearing that is the truest definition of love. It is something so much more than that. It is this sureness that she is the one for me and that these shorthanded ideas that society has placed in front of me are a hoax. I am not caught in young love; I am involved in something that I truly believe holds eternity for me.

This is not to be confused with some kind of idea that I am a worshipper of her, although her beauty is seen inside and out . that is pretty wild.

Regardless, I see couples around me everyday that take advantage of the ridiculous amount of moments they have together. You have something that those of us can only dream of on a day-to-day basis. The one thing we yearn for in life, especially in the fast-forward society we are in today, more time.

I draw back to the first time I saw M.C. Esher’s Drawing Hands. It depicts non-stop motion – one hand drawing another in constant circular cycle that draws the observer’s eyes over the painting.

For some people that is exactly what life consists of, a constant cycle of never stopping. I wish I could find a way for time to truly stop. A little more than 72 hours at a time is a tough concept to swallow.

I know I am not the only one and I know I have strength coming from the other side. Ambiguity seems like the only way to end a subject such as this when you do not know when it will change; just honestly knowing you chose the right one.

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