A Love Story Across The Ocean

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long distance love
Photo courtesy of Tracey Livingston

If I had one wish…

I’d wish to be an observer. Like watching a favorite movie for the tenth time. And I’d shake my head at the idea while grabbing for some popcorn.

First part…

I’d watch us meeting for the first time in a pub and be sure to thank Allah or God or whoever is up there for making it happen.

It was our time.

I’d look at us laughing and talking for hours and kissing in the hallway downstairs before saying goodnight. And rewind the moment when he told me that he sobbed into his hands for an hour at the train station when I left for Ireland.

I’d observe the courage it took during our first Skype call, when I asked him to come visit me.

Would everyone in the audience observe the energy that grabbed us and intertwined every aspect of our lives? Would they see the pull to give up my plans and rush home to him before bed?

I would keep watching and feeling again how all I needed was to say your name out loud to feel normal.

And all the goodbyes in the airports… London, Washington DC, NYC, Boston, Germany, Baltimore, Virginia… all the times we’d just cry and cry and hold each other. And then keep crying as soon as you turned the corner to your gate.

Yes, I’m sure I’d observe all of the hellos and goodbyes, and what went on in our minds. The minds that tried to not get too far ahead of our circumstances. But who had faith…

Second part…

How could I not cry again when watching the turning point when we agreed to end the distance? We were holding hands at a tapas restaurant on U Street and decided one of us would move. And we’d be together in the physical for more than 10 days at a time.

It was our time.

I’d observe us decide it would be London. And cheer myself on as I quit my 9-5 job and witness how fearless and courageous I was amidst all of the uncertainty. I’d fly and observe my Mother crying, my Father wondering and my sisters waiting to see what would happen to us.

And I’d get a sky-high view from the plane, observing the depth of my excitement as I headed to London with 2 bags of belongings to my name and no return ticket home.

Most of all I’d be sure to put on slow motion the scene of his proposal to me on Primrose Hill. I’d observe his eyes much better this time and his anxiousness in the moment.

Happy ending…

It was our time.

We had braved the distance. And maybe we experienced the truth of Greek Mythology: Zeus really did split two people in half, condemning them to spend a lifetime trying to find their other half.

We became two parts of a whole.

I’d observe the joys and emotions of two people getting married in front of awe-inspired family and friends on a snowy day in New England and then again us flying back to England.

Together.

You bet I’d hit rewind over and over.

A love story is worth observing. And more importantly, it’s worth living.

To be continued…

By Tracey Livingston

 

2 COMMENTS

    • So happy you wrote it, I was so impressed by your beautiful love story from the first time you told me! <3

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