One of the things you miss out on when you're doing long distance is something that's fairly hard to describe, because it's one of the (many, many) things and it's also, somehow, all of them. It's that feeling of familiarity that comes with being in the same place – not familiarity with the other person, because when you've known each other as long as H1 and I have, that's not going anywhere*, but familiarity with the little things that make up their life. It's having them tell a story, and to be able to picture vividly where it took place, and how, and what they looked like in it. It's knowing not only who they are, but where they are. Not until recently did I realise how close those words are. The language of Romeo and Juliet suddenly makes a whole lot more sense to me.
Because I spent three years in New York with Hayden, his stories still have a where for me, but mine don't have one for him. He's never lived in Grey Lynn with me. And until he comes home** at Christmas, we have what we have - photos and words and superlatives.
With this in mind, I walked to work the other morning with my phone in hand, snapping little bits of it as I wandered. A few photos here, a few photos there...and hopefully before long all my stories happen within H1's head nearly as they happen for me. And you too, I guess, because I do have a pretty gorgeous walk to work***, don't I?
*At least I very much hope not.
**For a holiday. Said so as not to get anyone's hopes up (mine included).
***When the sun shines...which obviously is always in NZ.