It's incredibly easy to miss someone, especially when they're a horrifically long two-and-some hours away at some weird cross country summer camp (because apparently some weirdos like running and exercise); but one thing three months much too far away from an extremely important person has taught me is that it takes true strength to survive and thrive by yourself, and not get too caught up in the missing that you forget to keep living.

Missing someone leads to a life riddled with self-imposed distractions, whether it be serving at a restaurant consisting of a clientele that doesn't know how to tip properly (TWENTY PERCENT PEOPLE, I'M NICE), or just trying to fill the gaps between phone calls with episodes of Parks and Rec and attempted bike rides. It's tough to be away from someone who is basically a human version of chocolate and sunshine, but I can promise one thing for those about to be apart from a loved one, for however long of a period of time: you become resilient. I've never been fonder of myself as a person, whether because I know I can handle any struggle that hits me, or due to the fact that some of the most up-heaving things have occurred and I've come out of the other side still laughing. Sure, missing someone is painful, but living with the pain and knowing you''ll be seeing them soon is enough to lessen any sadness. There's plenty of events and moments you want them around for that no FaceTime or phone call can fully convey, but reminding yourself you'll be experiencing an incredible array of life's finest and most challenging bursts is, for me at least, an encouragement you can take and run with. The ability to be self-sufficient and independent grows while you're alone, and allows for you to have your own identity and dreams, even when reunited with your person.

Missing someone is an art; a struggle that all too many must go through and survive with electronic quality time and a decent amount of waffle-eating. However, knowing you can make it through, and finding out for yourself how truly wonderful you are as a solo artist is a gift of suffering. Without the struggle of being apart from a loved one, I may not have ever stretched my fake limitations and found out how much I actually totally love myself. Plus, now I know I can give everything I've got to my person, who I'm more jazzed to see than ever.