It's dark, the engines are roaring and I'm on my third flight within 24 hours. My head is throbbing, my eyes are burning and if the flight attendant offers me one more bag of mini pretzel snacks, I'll toss them all the way to Australia like confetti.

“I was stuck in traffic jam yesterday and it took me over an hour to get home to my partner!” a friend of mine complains on Facebook.

I smirk while the person sitting next to me on the airplane unwraps a thick, smelly onion bun. When I want to see my husband, I have to travel on three different airplanes for 17 up to 30 hours - depending on the connection. I have to save up 900 dollars for the ticket, fly 6000 miles through eight time zones and have seventeen heart attacks for various reasons: Because my cheap connections are too tight, a blizzard is raging somewhere in the mountains or the US border officers greet me with yet another second screening to make sure that I am - again and surprisingly - no criminal warlord who is about to invade the country.

I am German and my husband is American. I live in Germany, he lives in the USA. We've been in a long-distance relationship since 2018, and we've literally been through heaven and hell: Through Homeland Security interrogations, romantic welcome posters, mental breakdowns after saying goodbye, a pandemic with border closures and a spontaneous change of all travel and life plans due to a terrifying cancer diagnosis. I believe that things like these either destroy a relationship or let your bond grow extremely strong and tight. For us, it's the latter. This is an insight into our long-distance relationship - what makes it work, how we manage even the worst scenarios and why, for us, love always wins.

It was clear from the beginning that we would probably never move in together and never close the gap. This may sound surprising but there were many practical reasons for us that won't apply to most common couples in a long-distance relationship, so all this is just our unique story and not a general guide.

I run my own succesful business in Germany, own a house with a long family tradition and hence a lot of emotional attachment, and have many German friends since childhood who are like family to me.

My husband, on the other hand, has lived in the Rocky Mountains for decades (he and I have a large age gap). He is very attached to his home and the great outdoors surrounding it. Also, learning German at his age proved to be too hard for him, and he has amazing doctors and insurance in the USA (he is ex-army), which is extremely important, expecially since he got diagnosed with stage 4 cancer in 2022.

Because my husband is retired and I can freely organize my work schedule as a freelance author, speaker and copywriter in Germany, we are very lucky and grateful that we can make a lot of time to see each other - as long as we keep an eye on our repsective visa days.

In the years before his diagnosis, we sometimes didn't see each other for two or three months, which was okay for us since we had been pretty independent people long before we got together. Now we try to spend as much time together as possible because his outlook is unfortunately grim.

When we are apart, we always start a countdown on an app on our cell phones that shows how many days, hours and minutes there are until we see each other again. Every time, it feels like I'm a child again and as if Christmas morning is getting closer with each passing day - even after six years of relationship. When we meet at the airport, one of us usually brings a silly welcome sign or a big balloon in the shape of a heart, dinosaur or squirrel. When we spot each other we start to run. Then we hug tightly and won't let go for a while.

Although we now manage to spend almost ten months a year together (before the diagnosis it was more like six - we spend the time partly in the USA, partly in Germany and partly on trips) we sometimes still have to say goodbye.

The reasons for this are for example my husband's treatment in the US, my work in Germany or limited visa days.

If you are a EU citizen and want to travel to any country outside the EU, you usually have to apply for a tourist visa, which allows you to stay in the foreign country for a certain number of days. This is often 90 days. This also applies to traveling to the USA.
However, I have an extended visa for the USA, a B2 tourist visa, which allows me to stay for up to 180 days at a time.But! You shouldn't go overboard with this (I have only stayed the full 180 days once) and make sure you stay out of the USA for a certain amount of time before re-entering. Unfortunately, this period of time is not stipulated by US law, but depends on the mood of the officer at the border. If you come back too early or if the officer simply hasn't slept well enough, crossing the US border quickly becomes a nasty interrogation. I can tell you because I have been in several of them and have always been a mental wreck afterwards.
My husband can currently come to Germany or the Schengen area for 90 days within 180 days and has never had any problems entering the country. He never had to apply for any visa (US citizens enter the EU visa-free) and never had to go through a second screening.

As you can see, you can spend a lot of time together by simply using the given visa days - if you can make the time, still make and save enough money to afford the trips and plan it carefully. And that's the thing: Long-distance relationships need a plan. A timeframe, a financial plan as well as honest debates about the future, hopes, expectations and reality. I am not a guru of any kind, so I cannot offer any personal advice for specific cases, I am only telling our story here. As already mentioned, we have a really favorable and rare job situation. If we both worked full-time as employees, moving to one or the other country would probably be the only long-term solution for us.

Long-distance relationships are like you can't just come over for a glass of wine in the evening. Well, at least I have never flown 17 hours only to drink a glass of wine with someone, not even my husband. And then, of course, there's always the fear of one of us having an emergency like a car accident or a heart attack, where, even in a best-case scenario, it would take us 24 hours from home to home, even if we rush to the airport instantly.

Moments of separation and farewell are never easy. I hate the moment when you wave to each other through a barrier or window at the airport for the last time. I don't know how many times I've strolled to the gate alone with tears streaming down my face and people staring. I now even have a song that I listen to during these moments. Broken Crown by Mumford and Sons. It somehow comforts me.

As I can work from home when I'm in Germany, we have time to write to each other on WhatsApp throughout the day, even when we're apart. Over the years we have discussed literally everything on WhatsApp from the best spice mix for noodle soup to bills, worries, plans and life after death. We always feel closer to each other when we can share as much as possible. I honestly don't know how we would have survived our many separations without deep, open and constant communication. It helps us not to drift apart, but it definitely requires commitment from both sides.

In the evenings, German time, we usually do a video chat where my husband reads me a book and I then peacefully fall asleep at some point. It's nice to hear his warm voice and be able to see him on my cell phone screen. We also always try to set a date for a reunion as soon as possible. That's the moment when the pain of separation turns into anticipation and I excitedly start bouncing around like a softball.

At the beginning of our relationship, the goodbyes felt always particularly bad. I often fell into an emotional black hole. But the more often we do it, the easier it seems to get, though as mentioned it will never be easy.

And then in March 2020 covid hit. The USA declared a travel ban on Europeans and the EU declared an travel ban on Americans. It was a fucking drama, to put it nicely. At the time we weren't married (a spontaneous wedding wasn't an option for various reasons) and there were no exemptions for unmarried couples for two long years (at least on the US side). As an unmarried couple, we were treated the same way as tourists. It was dignifiying and heartbreaking.
Back then the worldwide movement #loveisnottourism helped us a lot to find like-minded international couples with the same problem and to raise our voices together with them. I wrote to countless politicians during that time and signed many petitions to please open the borders for international couples again.

In those two years, during the US border closures, I traveled from Europe to the USA via third country twice - yes, it was possible and the regulations were that crazy in 2020 and 2021. Europe had been declared a high infection zone at the time and you were only allowed to travel to the USA if you had not been in Europe for 14 days before you travelled to the USA. Thus I visitied Aruba for 14 days in 2020 and Costa Rica for 14 days in 2021. Completely insane.

Many other couples in long-distance relationships were separated at the time, too, and couldn't find a solution, and some relationships failed as a result. You can read about our chase for love around the world in these articles:

• Covid-007 and the Love of my Life: How I disappeared to Canada overnight
• A Love Story in a Third Country: How I saw my Boyfriend despite Border Closures
• Smoke on the Airplane - my adventurous flight to Aruba

When everything was finally back to normal after covid, it only took a year for the universe to fuck our lives up again: Cancer.
In November 2022, as a total shock, my husband was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer after he had complained about “a little abdominal pain”. Stange 4 is considered the worst stage. It means you have already developed metastases and it's incurable. For a while it looked so grim that the doctor only wanted to give us a few more weeks.

Instead of flying home to Germany together for Christmas as planned, I dropped everything and stayed with my husband in the USA for treatment until April the following year. It was all that counted for me at this moment, nothing else mattered. We went through a tough chemotherapy, pain, paralyzing fear and very dark days together. For the first time, I used up all of my 180 visa days to stand by him.

Two days before the final test results of his chemotherapy came in, I had to leave the country because I was out of visa days. I had tried to get a visa extension for family emergencies, but the application was delayed and delyed and delayed by the US authorities to a point where I had no choice but to leave. Anyone who is overstaying is committing a crimie and can be banned from entering the country for up to ten years. It was inhumane and nearly tore me to pieces. So I was on my plane to Germany and didn't know whether the chemo had worked or not. Whether my husband would soon be in hospice and whether I would even be allowed to enter the country again soon to at least be by his side when he died. It was by far one of the worst moments in my life. All I really wanted to do was rip open the airplane door and jump off right over the Atlantic.

On the evening of my arrival in Germany, I received the relieving news that the chemo had gone extremely well and that the doctor had even given us another two to three years. I cried and laughed and screamed and drove up and down the highway in front of my house at night with my best friend, singing aloud to music. That was in April 2023.

So, we are still here. Despite everything. We finally got married and are certain that not even death can part us. He is my soulmate and we have proven more than once that we belong together. The most important thing is that we know that our love is something very special to us and that it can overcome a lot. Tested so often, passed so often. With tears, arguments, despair, fear, joy and hope. (Long-distance) relationships do need trust, passion, resilience, heart and a bit of insanity. And we have a lot of all of it.