"Never go to college with a boyfriend."

"Break-up with them before you go."

"Long-distance never works anyway."

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I don't listen to people like that.

My boyfriend and I had dated for a little over a year when I left for college, but we had been best friends since 9th grade. I had been accepted to Adrian College in Michigan to skate on the varsity synchronized skating team; my boyfriend had been accepted to Stanford University in Palo Alto, California. Those places are exactly 2,384 miles away from each other.

Holy cow.

My immediate reaction when he told me he got into Stanford was excitement for him. But then I realized the distance meant I wouldn’t get to see him every month. I started thinking about if I should do what everyone says, and break up with him. I knew it would be hard, but I decided that it would be harder to not have him in my life at all than it would be to not see him every day. We love each other and we can make it work. I went out to school in mid-August, and he went in mid-September. Before I left, we made a deal that he would come see me in Michigan before he went off to college.

He helped me pack. Like any responsible student, I waited to pack until the day before I left. We got to spend the whole day together laughing, making jokes, listening to all of our favorite songs, and attempting to pack my room into a suitcase. We even go to watch our favorite Netflix shows one last time before I had to go. We both knew we’d have to say goodbye eventually and sometimes, we’d randomly cry throughout the day knowing that this was the last time we’d see one another for a while. Saying goodbye when I left home was awful, it was like giving up a piece of me. But I knew that I would still see him in a month, so I held onto that until he got here.

The day finally arrived when he would come see me. Once his flight landed in Michigan, and I figured out how to navigate airport traffic, there were feelings of relief, excitement, and happiness. There were happy tears and a lot of hugging and smiles and it was amazing. He had never seen Michigan before so I showed him around some places I know, we walked around campus, he met all my new friends, we cooked dinner together, caught up on each other’s lives, and watched way too much Netflix; it was absolutely wonderful. It was four days of pure happiness. And then it came to saying goodbye...

He was right here. We were together in each other's arms and everything was perfect again. Then it was gone. People say you never know what you have until you lose it and I felt that the first time I left for college. But the knowledge that I would see him again in a month was a comforting fact that I could always turn to in hard times. Once he was here in Michigan, I didn’t want to let go. Distance makes things all too real. Yes, I missed him terribly during my first month here but 580 miles is a lot less than 2,384 miles. This time, goodbye would feel heavier. We’d be farther apart, and I don’t know the next time I’ll get to see him. I knew how hard the first month of college was without him, and once he was here with me, it was even harder to let him go back home. Dropping him off at the airport was just as rough; worse than when I left home the first time.

Coming to school with a boyfriend isn't difficult. Being faithful, still having fun, not being distracted, all of that is easy. The difficult part is being far away from him. But nothing about it is impossible. Not to sound cliché, but being far away is nothing because I love him.