Well, it happened. It took 25 years, dozens of good dates, more bad dates, and a lot of self-loathing, but it happened. I finally understand what all the love fuss is about.
I was always a cynic, too. I never believed that you could love someone unconditionally, or that you could have a relationship that was as natural as breathing, where even the difficult conversations come easily and stress-free. But I get it now. I finally understand that the cheesy songs, the lame poems, and the crappy rom-com movies have, if you're really lucky, got it right. And it just so happens, I'm really lucky. Despite the fact that, as we're on different continents, I miss him wretchedly, and as a result also understand exactly what the term "lovesick" really means, I wouldn't trade this feeling for anything.
I'm not trying to be a hopeless romantic either; I've always been very level-headed in pretty much every aspect of my life. I don't believe something exists unless I am given solid proof. So forgive my cheesy lameness...it's just that I've finally found the proof.
Feel free to go and vomit now if you like. I've said what I needed to say.