I spent a good year and a half bitching that I would never find a soulmate. And then I did. His name is Plaid. And some stuff happened, and we went some places, and did that whole love thing... blah blah blah. Fast forward through the e-harmony.com montage (though we didn't meet on the internet, we met while drunk at a bar like normal classy folks), and let's get to the real issue here. I'm currently in law school in the middle of nowhere Illinois (where you can get a bottle of Absolut for $17, so I'm not complaining) and he is currently employed in Virginia. Heeyyyy wait a minute, that's far!
I was always adamantly against long distance relationships. To me they're like long distance sandwiches... sure, the promise of satisfaction exists, but what good is a sandwich 10 states over when you're hungry? Now, I know what you're thinking. Ivy... people aren't sandwiches. People have personality and unique value, whereas a sandwich does not (arguably, Ally's sandwiches have a lot of personality and unique value). But then you have to remember, for a long time there, dating partners were as interchangeable to me as what type of sandwich I might have for lunch. (I'm hungry)
Plaid isn't a sandwich to me. He's more like a dinner at Alinea. It's the world's fucking best restaurant, and people justifiably travel across the world to eat it. And if I booked a reservation there, I wouldn't knock back a couple of Subways before going. I would wait.
Because.... eeee.... I don't wanna say it... okay I'm gonna say it.... some people are worth waiting for. If there were a score board for Plaid v. rest of male population, the rest of the male population has one point. For proximity. When I first learned that we would be doing the long distance thing, my initial reaction was "Find someone to replace him who lives a comfortable walking distance from your apartment." Then I remembered that it's not like perfect matches are everywhere. Realistically, if I plunged back into the dating world, I would be re-confronted with assholes who never call, dudes I have nothing in common with, or worst of all, guys who listen to Nickelback.
So I guess I've landed myself in the dreaded long distance relationship. At least there's still a Jimmy John's right down the block.