This Is It

It's the little things, really.

Relationships are hard, there's no doubt about it. Especially when they're long distance. There's the travelling, there's the missing each other, there's the getting frustrated at each other when one is too busy to text the other back for a few hours...They take work and effort on both parts. But then you're together, and everything is okay. Even when you're arguing, everything is okay. Because they're there.

You hear their voice, you see their face, and it's okay. You kiss them when the clock strikes midnight on New Years Eve, and it's okay. He's jumping off the walls, drunk and loud, and you have to guide him out of the bar, but it's still okay. You go home and you argue, and he leaves the room, but it's okay. And then he comes back and you argue some more, and then he moves to the other side of the bed when you refuse to kiss him goodnight, or even spare him a glance. But it's still okay, because after fifteen minutes, you pull him back, and he holds you all through the night.

He's a lover, not a fighter. When you argue, he looks lost, and he knows he's in trouble, but you falter because those eyes are so sad. So you drop it, and you laugh and you let him hold you and you wonder how you're supposed to feel when you leave for home and he's not with you. But you don't think about that right now, because right now, he's here. So you kiss him and you laugh as he blows raspberries into the skin of your shoulder, because that laugh was what he wanted to hear.

And now, you're at home. You're in your bed, not his. And you're alone. And you know that as soon as the lights go out, you'll miss him again. You'll wish he was there, pressed against your back, you holding his hand to your chest as you fall asleep. But he's hours away, at his own house, in his own town. Maybe he's sitting by the fire, maybe he's in bed. Either way, you miss his sleepy voice and his bright blue eyes and his arms and his everything.

I think this is it.

I think this, this is when you know that he's a little bit more important to you than you intended. That maybe, you care about him a little more than you're willing to admit. I think this is when you realise you're lying to yourself.