551.2 miles. That is the distance between your house and mine. Each mile is a marker when someone has said: "Long distance doesn't usually work out." The funny thing is while our houses are separated by space, my heart is homesick for you.

Every time I walk outside into the crisp cold morning, I want to confess my love to you with words upon words. Whispering sweet-somethings (not "nothings") into your ear. I want to hold your hand and double my steps to match yours. I want to say something that will make you boisterously laugh. I want to say something that causes you to pull me in and look into my eyes. I want for our lips to meet, not in fireworks, but caresses.

I continue to walk while pulling my phone out of my pocket. I send "Good morning, love". The meaning I have behind it is more than you know. It means that the first thought of my day was about you. It means that I wish I could be saying that phrase while handing you coffee instead of texting it while walking to class. That simple phrase silently shares the longing to run my fingers through your hair and kiss your cheek. It implies my desire for your strength and encouragement.

Others are intimidated or maybe just irritated by my unapologetic honesty. I wish I could look to you and be reassured that I'm not too bold or high-maintenance in the way I interact with you. There is a part of me that worries that I might scare off the most wonderful man I've ever met. That worry disappears with just a look from across the room, but instead, we are across two states.

As I get to my classroom door, I see couples saying their goodbyes as they enter into different classes and I'm immediately overcome with a wave of jealousy. Our goodbyes are always so much more difficult than that. Someday soon we will be together and I won't have to wish you were by my side.

Are you in a long distance relationship? Can you relate to this? Let me know in the comments below!