Dear boyfriend,

I told myself I wouldn’t write this, because who wants to read a love letter? I’m no Austen-esque heroine, and you are most certainly no Mr Darcy (which I mean as a compliment, by the way). But as we reach the end of lockdown, all I can think about is how much I miss you.

You’re only one hour (and fifteen minutes) away, and God, we should be grateful for that. We spent six months three hundred miles apart, spent six months travelling on twelve hour coaches and ringing in midnights at Victoria Coach Station. But somehow it’s worse, being this close but unable to see you.

We call twice a day. Our friends call us ‘simps’ (or whatever the lingo is these days) and sometimes we have nothing left to talk about at all. But I’m so used to having you close and I miss your cooking way more than I should (don’t tell my mum). I miss laughing ourselves stupid and you talking in your sleep. So sometimes a hushed goodnight is worth everything I can’t tell you in person.

And really, I just wanted to say thank you. I never get a chance to say it, and it looks like I won’t be able to tell you in person any time soon. Thank you for putting up with me, like you always do. Thank you for entertaining my weird moods and including me in games of Among Us and sending me pictures of dogs. Thank you for always being there.

This is to everyone keeping everyone else sane in lockdown: thank you. Thank you to friends and housemates and parents hundreds of miles away who are checking that you’re still doing your washing and having three meals a day. We miss you.

Anyway. I’ll call you later tonight, okay? We’ll both be too tired to say anything other than goodnight, I love you. You’ll probably fall asleep on your phone, again, and I’ll almost forget to set my alarm. But I’ll wake up tomorrow morning with a text that says have a good day, I love you. I’ll remember that we’ll be okay. And for now, that’s enough.

All my distanced love,
Cass xx