The chatter and talks about our future become longer and more frequent. Where will we end up? How will we merge our two very different lives together to eventually form one? How long until we no longer have to be so separate? Will we make it through all the obstacles we know lie ahead of us, waiting to be stumbled over?

These questions, and many more, hang in the back of my mind constantly. But each time I'm with him, it all seems possible. Any time I tell someone how excited I am to visit my boyfriend, the comment always comes up: That really sucks that he's so far away.

I know it does. I know how much more it's going to suck in the future. We've only yet made it through the summer. With two more years left of school for me and the scary depth of the real world for him, post graduation, it's going to get much harder before it finally gets easier. Before we can finally just be normal. Before we can finally just be together.

We each still have a lot of growing up to do and tears form in my eyes when I think of that causing our demise. Neither of us wants to interfere with the other's career dreams, but neither of us wants to be without the other. It'd be easier if we'd met later in life, after we were established.

Sometimes, I tend to lean toward the negative, bringing up the worst possible scenario. He keeps me hopeful and optimistic and always reassures me that we can do it. We will do it. We balance each other. He gives me hope, and I remind him of reality. But when we're with each other AND making each other laugh, hiking and adventuring, going on quiet dates at cozy, dimly-lit restaurants in harbor towns -- even just laying on the couch all day, watching movies in between naps -- I have not an ounce of doubt. I know that's where I want to be always. Just together. I know that this feeling of missing someone that stubbornly lulls over me is worth living with for the next two years. He makes driving three-and-a-half hours over bridges and through treacherous traffic all worth it.

It's hard not to always feel so distanced from each other because of the 172 miles that force each other out of the other's arms. We're not there for the little, every day things and I find those are the things I've begun to long for most. But there's no one I'd rather work through this 'wrong time' for. As long as he's mine, it's never the wrong time.