Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light

I struggle with all my relationships. My relationships with my friends, my family, my boyfriend, MYSELF are all things that I struggle with now and then. I’m still trying to find who I am, and understand myself outside of interests and outside of my history. I still don’t know if I truly know my place in this world and that makes so many things a struggle. I’m not great at multi-tasking so coming to terms with my life, coming to some kind of conclusion as to who I am as well as maintaining relationships… That isn’t easy. It seems like it is to most people, most people don’t seem to be as perpetually overwhelmed as I am but they still struggle. Everyone does, all relationships need work. Even my relationships with my cats needs work. Not as much but they are seriously hyper and I’m seriously impatient so I have something I need to work on in order to adjust to such a simple relationship.

I live 460 miles from some of my family, 200 from some more and 40 miles away from my inner family. It’s hard. Always. I miss my grandparents, I miss my cousins, my uncles and aunts, I miss my parents, my sisters, our dog. It’s like a constant ache that never seems to completely go away and it’s so.damn.hard. The solution is live closer to family, right? Wrong. No matter where I go, I’ll still be far from the rest of my family. There’s no solution, really. I wish I could pop over to my grandparents and it’d just be a case of ‘Sarah’s over today!’ rather than the fanfare that I usually get. Not that I’m not grateful for that, I am; my grandparents are wonderful and still treat me like a princess. I wish seeing them wasn’t such a rarity that they felt they had to go out of their way to entertain me when I go there, though. I wish I could go to my mum’s for dinner even once a week. I have a ten year old sister that just isn’t keen on communication; we even tried being pen-pals, she hated it. I miss her all the time, I moved out 7 years ago and I feel like I’ve missed her entire childhood. Every time I see her, she seems so much older. Likewise with my grandparents, every time I see them, they’re more frail, more reliant on each other and although it makes logical sense that they’d age in the time I’ve been away, it’s still not easy to swallow. I feel like I’m missing precious time with such incredible people and there’s nothing I can do about it, really because I have to live my own life and do my own thing.

Gavin works so many hours a week, he’s a chef. I miss him all the time, I miss him when I’m eating dinner and watching tv, I miss him when I wake up and he’s already left for work, I miss him when something funny happens and only he would understand what makes it so funny. I’m lucky because I still see him every night, I still get to cuddle him every day and there are women and men that don’t see their partners for months on end. Comparing yourself to others, especially when you’re upset, though, is an exercise in futility and erasing your pain using somebody else’s is belittling your own feelings and regardless of how silly or over-the-top they may seem- your feelings matter. I miss him.

Tonight I was searching through Neil Gaiman’s Twitter page as bedtime reading (yep) and I saw this:


A quick explanation in case you’re not familiar with Neil Gaiman and/or his relationship: he is married to Amanda Palmer, a musician and he himself is a writer, a very loved and respected writer. They both travel a lot for work and commitments and it’s well known amongst their fans that they rarely see each other and sometimes only have enough time in the day to send quick ‘Goodnight, I love you’ tweets. Their marriage seems to remain strong despite this and maybe, who knows, because of this.

I read that tweet and I thought ‘yes.’

It is. It’s hard. Love is hard. Relationships are hard. Life is hard. Sometimes, in all cases, unbearably so. It doesn’t get much easier, either. It’s not simple, it’s not easy and as much as relationships, love and life seem like it- they’re not tests. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t feel like I missed someone. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have that dull ache, that missing piece, that longing to be near my family, near Gavin, near friends I barely see. I’m always missing someone. I’m always a bit lost because my heart is scattered around so many miles and nothing I do or can do will make it easier, it just is what it is.

It’s worth it though. Neil Gaiman’s right; love is worth everything. The heartache, the longing, the fights, the struggles, everything. It’s worth everything. My family are worth the wait, Gavin’s worth the wait, even my cats are worth the sleepless nights they provide me with while they run around like lunatics. This is because nothing comes close to how love feels. When you think about it, somebody loving you is so huge. It’s enormous. It’s extraordinary. Having so many people that I love and miss and want to be around is a struggle but it’s also amazing.  Even if it’s only a few times a year I see my family, even if it’s a cuddle and chat before bed with Gavin, it’s all worth it and really it’s the epitome of life itself; even if the magical parts are few and far between, they’re still magical and they’re the things that should be cherished. Loving those around me as much as I do is pretty magical and beautiful in itself, really. Even if it sometimes doesn’t feel like it.

Tonight, Gavin and I lay in bed giggling and talking rubbish, we spoke about the days when we first got together and all the things that have happened in between. We cuddled, we kissed and when he fell asleep, I missed him.

Missing your partner minutes after they’ve fallen asleep? That really is worth everything.

This blog was named after a quote from Dumbledore. 



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