The Distance Between Us

The drive to State University felt longer than Mike had expected. The excitement he'd felt about starting college, playing soccer at the collegiate level, and meeting new people was still there, but it was overshadowed by the ache of leaving Emi behind. His mind kept replaying their goodbye, the promise they had made to each other, and the image of her standing on the porch, tears in her eyes as he drove away.

When Mike finally pulled up to campus, the bustling energy of move-in day hit him. Freshmen and their families crowded the sidewalks, cars were packed with belongings, and the air buzzed with anticipation. Mike's parents helped him unpack and settle into his dorm room, but all he could think about was texting Emi—letting her know he had arrived, and reassuring her (and himself) that everything would be okay.

Once his parents left and he was alone in his new room, Mike pulled out his phone and sent a message.

Mike: Just got here. It's crazy busy, but the campus is beautiful. How are you doing?

A few minutes passed before his phone buzzed with Emi's reply.

Emi: I miss you already. The house feels weird without you coming by every day. How's your dorm?

Mike smiled, relieved to hear from her. He snapped a quick picture of his room and sent it to her, along with a message.

Mike: It's small, but it's not too bad. Still feels weird though. Can't believe I'm really here.

Emi: You'll settle in soon. I'm sure you'll love it once everything gets started. I'm so proud of you, Mike.

Her words filled him with warmth, but also a tinge of sadness. Mike knew they would get through this, but it didn't stop him from wishing she was here with him. College felt like a whole new world, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was facing it without his best friend by his side.

The first week of classes flew by in a blur of orientation meetings, introductions to professors, and trying to navigate the sprawling campus. Mike was excited by all the new opportunities in front of him—his professors seemed great, the soccer team had already welcomed him warmly, and his dormmates were cool. But even with all the newness, there was a part of him that felt off.

Every time something exciting happened, his first instinct was to text Emi, to share it with her the way he had always done. But there was a time lag now—a distance that hadn't been there before. He couldn't just walk over to her house after school or catch her between classes. It was the first time in years that their lives were moving on different tracks, and it was harder than Mike had expected.

On Thursday night, after a long day of classes and soccer practice, Mike called her. He needed to hear her voice.

"Hey," Emi answered, her voice soft on the other end of the line.

"Hey," Mike said, feeling the tension in his shoulders relax just hearing her speak. "How was your day?"

"It was good," Emi replied. "I spent most of the day working on my portfolio. Art school is... intense."

Mike chuckled. "I bet. But you're going to be amazing, Emi. You're already one of the best artists I know."

Emi laughed softly, but there was a hint of exhaustion in her voice. "Thanks, Mike. I've been thinking about you all day. How's soccer going? I miss hearing about your games."

Mike leaned back in his chair, glancing at his soccer gear in the corner of the room. "It's going well. The team's great, and the coaches are tough, but in a good way. We've got our first game next weekend."

"That's awesome," Emi said, her excitement genuine. "I wish I could be there to watch you play."

"Yeah, I wish you could too," Mike admitted. "It's weird not having you on the sidelines. You've always been there."

Emi was quiet for a moment, and Mike could hear the subtle shift in her breathing. "I miss you, Mike."

Mike's chest tightened at her words. He missed her too—more than he had been able to express in the past few days. "I miss you too, Emi. Every day."

There was a long pause, and Mike could feel the distance between them more acutely than ever. Even though they were talking, even though they were still connected, it wasn't the same. They were living in two separate worlds now, and no amount of phone calls or texts could change that.

"Do you think this will get easier?" Emi asked quietly, her voice vulnerable.

Mike closed his eyes, wishing he had the answer. "I hope so. I think once we get into a routine, it'll be better. But I know it's hard right now."

"I just... I'm scared, Mike," Emi admitted, her voice breaking slightly. "I don't want us to lose what we have."

Mike felt a lump rise in his throat. He had been scared too—scared that the distance would start to chip away at what they had built, scared that they would drift apart without meaning to. But he didn't want to let that happen. He couldn't.

"We won't lose it," Mike said firmly. "We've worked too hard to let that happen. I know it's tough right now, but we'll figure it out. We'll visit each other as much as we can, we'll keep talking... we'll make it work, Emi."

Emi let out a shaky breath, and Mike could hear the relief in her voice. "Okay. I trust you."

They talked for a while longer, catching up on the little things—Mike's soccer practice, Emi's latest art project, their professors and classmates. It wasn't the same as being together in person, but for now, it was enough. When they finally said goodbye, Mike felt a little more at ease. They would find a way to make this work. They had to.

A month later, the routine had settled in. Mike was busy with classes, soccer, and the usual college life, while Emi was fully immersed in her art school. They talked on the phone almost every night, and even though there were days when it was hard to keep up with each other's lives, they made it work.

But the distance still weighed on them.

Mike noticed it most when he saw other couples around campus—holding hands, going to class together, grabbing coffee. It wasn't jealousy, exactly, but it was a constant reminder of what he didn't have. He missed the simple things with Emi—walking to school together, sitting next to her in class, sharing lunch.

One Friday evening, after a particularly tough week, Mike called Emi. He needed to hear her voice, to feel some kind of connection in the middle of all the chaos.

"Hey," Emi answered, sounding tired but happy to hear from him.

"Hey," Mike said, leaning against the wall of his dorm. "How was your day?"

"Long," Emi replied with a sigh. "But I finally finished that piece I've been working on. I'll send you a picture later."

"I can't wait to see it," Mike said, smiling. "I've been thinking about you all day."

"Same," Emi said softly. "I wish we could just... be together, you know? It's been so hard not seeing you."

"I know," Mike admitted, his chest aching at the thought. "But I've been thinking... maybe I could come visit next weekend? I have a few days off, and I'd love to see you."

Emi's voice brightened. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course," Mike said. "I miss you, Emi. I want to see you."

"I miss you too, Mike," Emi said, her voice filled with emotion. "I can't wait."

The following weekend, Mike drove back to visit Emi. The moment he saw her, standing outside her dorm with that familiar smile on her face, all the distance, all the tension, melted away. They ran to each other, and when they finally hugged, it felt like no time had passed at all.

For the next two days, they spent every moment together—exploring Emi's campus, going out to dinner, and just enjoying being in each other's presence again. It was a reminder of why they had fallen in love in the first place, and for the first time since they had started college, Mike felt like everything was going to be okay.

As they sat together on a park bench near Emi's campus on the last night of his visit, Mike took her hand in his and smiled. "This... this is what I needed."

"Me too," Emi said, resting her head on his shoulder. "It feels like everything is right again."

Mike looked down at her, feeling a sense of peace settle over him. The distance had been hard, but seeing Emi, being with her, made it all worth it. They could do this. They could make it work.

And as they sat there, under the soft glow of the streetlights, Mike knew that no matter how far apart they were, their connection would always bring them back to each other.