On [somehow surviving] Long-Distance, Again.

I consider every passing moment I survive without you a success. The days on my smartphone's countdown pass far too slowly, but pass they do.

Can you believe it's been 11 days since I've seen you, love? Since you held me in your arms and whispered, "I can't wait to marry you."

115 days, love.

Our lives are all flip-flopped right now. I'm done with school. You just started a new job. My busy season has slowed, and yours is just picking up.

But you make time for me.

Date night is always a priority, you said. Always.

They're precious, those few hours we carve out to spend together. We survive the days by filling the gaps with texts, facebook messages, quick "hellos" on the phone, tweets, and instagrams to convince ourselves that our lives are intertwined. This busyness deems date night to be sacred, even in this season when that translates as Thai food take-out and a Redbox movie while we Skype.

And we silently pray that this simultaneous activity will somehow manage to bridge that 2,000-mile gap.