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The music blurred around me, but my focus sharpened the moment Oliver, a beacon in the crowd, caught my eye, a shared understanding blossoming between us that transcended the confines of the gay concert we were both attending. We talked all night, discovering a kinship that felt like destiny, but the miles between our cities cast a long shadow over our budding connection, a constant reminder of the logistical nightmares that often plague LGBT relationships in the modern world. Still, his texts, filled with inside jokes and late-night confessions, became a lifeline, each message a fragile bridge built across the distance, fueled by the hope that someday, those miles would disappear. I hold onto that hope, because the brief moment our hands brushed as the band played our song felt like the start of something truly special.