22 Hours and 10,497 Miles Away During COVID-19

The aftermath of the global pandemic, COVID-19 will send shocks through the world as we know it for years to come. For those of us separated by distance from our partners, families and friends, we’ve lost our set date to see our most cherished ones again.

What follows is the unlikely story of two people who met and fell in love over the Internet, and how they survived before they even met face-to-face. This is our story.

I live in Melbourne, Australia. He lives in Hull, East Yorkshire, England. We met on Twitter. Who could've thought that the often soul-sucking cesspool that is Twitter would lead me to the love of my life? Who falls in love with a man on the other side of the planet? Alas, you don't choose who you love, and it's too late to back out once you realise you are, indeed, madly in love.

Adam struck up a conversation with me in January 2015. There I was, tapping away on my phone, believing that my opinions on something as trivial as music festivals in Australia meant something to the world. They mattered to Adam. He responded to my laments, explaining that music festivals in the UK weren't what they were cracked up to be – despite epic line ups. Our friendship began overnight.

From the beginning, we had hurdles to overcome. Namely, an 11-hour time difference during daylight savings time, and a 9-hour time difference the rest of the year. We had to find routines that would suit us both. I was 18 going on 19 while he was 21 going on 22. I was just starting my university journey, Adam's – to his relief – was finishing. Of course, I was shit-scared, not at all prepared for the challenges of the real world. He was terrified, too, he had no idea what he'd do with his life after finishing his university degree. He hated that goddamn business degree. What next?

Adam's stepdad helped him find his feet at the end of his studies. He wound up working in admin at his local hospital, and no matter how busy his days were, he always made time to hang out with me. I was studying a Diploma of Counselling, hoping my grades and credits could give me the boost I needed to qualify for the bachelor's degree in Psychological Science. They did.

He found me during a transformative time. Not only was I entering "adulthood," but I was also moving forward from my teenage depressive state and working out who I wanted to be in real-time. Last year, I followed my heart and studied a Diploma of Entertainment Journalism. Still, figuring it out, see? I'm presently trying my luck at freelance journalism. Hit me up for some enticing music writing, editing work or memoirs like this one.

We discovered common interests: a love for Harry Potter, a lifelong passion for music – from folk, to indie-rock, to punk, to emo; we embraced it all. We share aligned political views and an enthusiasm for learning from each other.

At the time, I believed that our families couldn't be more different. Looking at my family now, I was so wrong about the boxes I put us in. Adam grew up very independent, and I come from a traditional Greek-Australian family. This led to major confusion when, at 18, I was allowed to do whatever I wanted. Let me be clear: I wouldn't change anything about the way I was raised. My parents always understood the dangers of a young woman going out alone or putting her trust in the wrong people. If I were in their feet, I would be scared, too.

Adam asked me to be his girlfriend in 2016 – as if I wasn't already. We brought the best out of each other. Adam encouraged me to be open with my emotions and I encouraged him to be his entire authentic self. As he’s always been the unconventional example of masculinity, expressing himself the way he always wanted could be a challenge.

Of course, we had our struggles. We've never fought, although that stems from an early promise we made — to never go to bed upset with each other, which is much harder than it sounds. Between different time zones and busy lifestyles, it's a time-consuming, endless responsibility to ensure your partner is feeling okay as often as possible. We vowed to keep communication honest and frequent. I had to be open about my anxieties towards seeing myself on camera, no matter how much I ridiculed myself for those worries. We refused to allow issues to bottle up and wreck each other from the inside out.

After two years together, we hit a breaking point. We were happy, growing as individuals and as a couple, but something was missing: we still hadn't met. We talked about it, of course, but a part of me never believed we'd meet. I knew so many people online who I'd never meet. However, Adam had saved thousands of dollars for three years to make his way to Melbourne. He put off moving out of home, he went out less, he worked overtime for weeks. The hardest thing, for me, was telling my parents about Adam.

I was foolish. I believed the jokes about long-distance relationships and I continued feeding my insecurities. If there's one essential thing I've learned over the last few years, it's that hiding your emotions and your life is never worth it. What was I afraid of, anyway? That my parents would tell me I couldn't see Adam anymore? They only want my happiness; they'd never ask that of me. They found out about us thanks to my old Tumblr blog.

My cousin stumbled upon said blog. My cousin read many old, concerning posts I wrote about depression and anxiety. He read things about Adam, including when we first started talking, started dating, and our first anniversary. When my parents read those posts before me, I was petrified. As my hands grew clammy and my mouth dried out, I made one of the most important choices of my life: to simply be honest. Thank goodness for that day. On that May 2018 afternoon, I told my family about Adam and all about my teenage mental illness. We cried, held each other and promised to tell no more lies. I broke that promise once, but I never will again. We grew closer as a result. I still do my best to remain open.

That conversation with my family took hours. Adam was worried, I had sort of disappeared on him. When I returned to my phone, I told him everything. He wept with joy and told his parents about us the next day. He scrambled to organise a visa and flights to Melbourne. On 5 September 2018, Adam landed in Melbourne for the first time.

He met my family and friends. He celebrated my mum's birthday with us. He met my dog, Dane. We went on our first date (then went on another one, and another one). He tried Melbourne coffee, and yes, it lived up to the hype. We shopped. We went for a road trip to Victoria's stunning Great Ocean Road. It was the best time of our lives.

Adam flew back to Melbourne for Christmas that same year. He still had savings, and being back home hit especially hard. December was wonderful, too, despite the heat!

We strolled around Queen Victoria Market, and my sister introduced him to the glory of potato spirals, pictured below. Adam tried a Slurpee. He experienced a 37-degree Celsius Christmas Eve. We created our first tradition: eating at the Pancake Parlour during every trip. We took silly photos. We went to a Harry Potter trivia night. The trivia kicked off half an hour earlier than advertised, so we were losers before we even arrived. I tried Butterbeer, unaware that I'd be drinking it again on the other side of the world 11 months later. By the end of the second trip, we couldn't bear to spend 100 days without each other.

My sister's birthday is on 1 May. Adam flew back at the end of April to be here for her 21st birthday. We had a breakfast date. We returned to the Pancake Parlour. We wandered through the phenomenal Australian Music Vault. We sauntered through Hosier Lane and shot tourist photos. We went to pubs. Most importantly, Adam was there for my sister's birthday and all her celebrations, including the party at KBox Karaoke Bar. As my sister drunkenly sang along to "Man… I Feel Like a Woman" by Shania Twain, Adam walked into the room while she was mid-spin and she screamed her lungs out. It was hysterical.

My birthday is on 15 August. Adam flew to Melbourne for the fourth time in a year. We ate at the new Vietnamese restaurant near my house and talked about feminism and accountability in music over deep-fried dumplings. We ran through the rain to the Melbourne Museum and walked through the Revolutions, Records and Rebels exhibit. That trip, I had my flights booked: my first voyage to the UK was quickly approaching.

Last November, my sister and I flew to London. It was our first time overseas. We went to Adam's sister's wedding. It was the most beautiful wedding I've ever attended. I finally met all his family and friends. We went to Flamingo Land, a zoo, and visited the awe-inspiring city of York afterwards, which is only an hour away! We visited Liverpool, including the team's football ground, Anfield, and bought my dad and my cousin a bunch of Liverpool merchandise.

We spent time in London for our second week in the UK. Adam's mum shouted us food at the Hard Rock Café, across from Piccadilly Station, where I obnoxiously snapped photos of the memorabilia (hey, a guitar signed by Radiohead!). We made our way to Abbey Road. The studio is closed to tourists, but the Abbey Road Shop is a marvellous expedition through music history.

We took pictures outside Buckingham Palace. My sister yeehaw'ed on London Bridge, leaving Adam and I cackling, and that's how she took my favourite ever photo of us. We spent hours in a multi-storey arcade when we were just looking for a café. We watched the Melbourne band, CLEWS at a South London dive bar. We went to Camden Market and saw my uncle for the first time in three years. We experienced the unforgettable Warner Bros. Studio Tour of The Making of Harry Potter. Those two weeks in London were a whirlwind, and a total dream come true.

All of these experiences bring us to where we are today, amid a global pandemic. Adam had flights booked to return to Melbourne this month. We would have been reunited today. We would've spent three weeks together and celebrated my sister's birthday. Adam would have attended my graduation. We were planning new adventures. Hell, my parents planned their first holiday without us kids since their honeymoon. Our lives are, painfully, set on hold. The uncertainty of the world as we (don't?) know it causes me torrential anxiety at times, and I'm sure I'm not alone.

Nobody can predict what the new normal will look like. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? I certainly don't, but I do know this: the next time Adam and I are reunited, we won't take a single second for granted. I hope that if you're still reading this, that you never take your partner for granted either.

If there are two positives to long-distance relationships, it's that you find the resilience you never knew you had; and you learn to appreciate the simple things, like sleeping beside someone you love or sharing comfortable silence. We will find new ways to deal with the unprecedented challenges we encounter. Whether you met on a dating app or Facebook or whether you live states or countries apart, it doesn't matter. We are the most connected generation to ever exist.

P.S. Stay home. Wash your hands. Don't go back on your word that "essential workers" are "heroes" – they deserve much better pay and higher appreciation at all times, and you know it. Tell your family and friends that you love them, and often.