Bella is a double major in journalism and graphic design, graduating next May.

When I asked what part of post-grad life worries her the most, she didn’t even pause.

“Honestly? My relationship,” she said. “Not because anything’s wrong — just because everything’s about to change.”

Her boyfriend is training to be a crane operator, which means he’ll probably move around a lot. “He might be in a different state. I want to leave Omaha too, but maybe not in the same direction,” she said.

I asked if she’d go with him since design can be remote. She thought for a second. “Maybe,” she said. “But I don’t want to lose myself in the process. I’ve done that before.”

She wasn’t saying it like someone scared to be alone — more like someone who finally learned how to be with herself.

“In the beginning, I was with him all the time. I didn’t realize how much space I’d stopped giving myself,” she said. “Now I make sure I have my own thing.”

I told her I used to be the same — that kind of love that makes you forget your own rhythm. She laughed and said she’s like that too. “You just learn how to find balance,” she said. “That’s all I’m trying to do.”

I kept thinking about that. How everyone talks about balance like it’s something you eventually figure out, when really it’s something you’re always trying to hold on to.

She said she’s worried that after college, she and her boyfriend might not end up in the same place. He’s going into a job that moves around a lot, and she wants to leave Omaha too, just… maybe not in the same direction. I get it. Some people can do long distance. They love the idea of “we’ll make it work,” the late-night calls, the visiting each other every few months. But for most people, it just starts to hurt. You miss the tiny things: grocery trips, sharing silence, watching shows together, or just being near someone.

It’s weird because no one really tells you how big of a deal proximity is until it’s gone. It’s not even about love dying. Sometimes it’s just that distance becomes its own character in the relationship, always showing up, always in the way.

And honestly? I hate long distance. I like being close to my person. I like the casual, nothing-special moments — running errands, sitting in silence, those tiny things that make you feel steady. But I also get that sometimes, you don’t get to choose the timing. Life moves you both forward, just not always together.

Even though I don’t like long distance, I know I’d do it with my partner. Not because it’s easy, but because it feels worth trying for. That’s the part people forget is distance doesn’t kill love, but indifference does. Still, sometimes distance doesn’t make the heart fonder; sometimes it just shows you how differently you grow. And that’s the scary part — realizing that while you’re becoming someone new, they might be too. And maybe if it doesn’t work, it wasn’t meant to in the first place.

I think what she’s feeling is the same quiet panic a lot of us have about life after college. It’s not just about jobs or moving away; it’s about wondering if the people you love will still fit into the new version of your life or if they’ll outgrow you first. That’s a terrifying thought. But maybe that’s what growing up actually is: learning to accept that love sometimes changes shape when life does too.