Two years long distance… where’s the end?

Ay, estoy tan cansada de esperar. We’ve been doing this long distance thing for two years now — him in Chicago, me aquí in Guadalajara — and every time I ask ‘¿y cuándo nos vemos de una vez?’, he says ‘soon, mi vida, soon’. But nothing changes. Two years of video calls, of birthday cards, of saying ‘te amo’ into a phone that can’t even hug me back. My mamá keeps asking if he’s serious, if he’s going to ‘hacerme responsable’, and I don’t know what to say. It’s not just the distance, it’s the silence after I bring it up — like I’m being too much for wanting a plan, for wanting to live together like a real couple. Ay, it’s a matter of respect, ¿no? I gave him my loyalty, my trust, and all I ask is that we decide on something — move to him, him move to me, I don’t care! But this limbo? It’s killing me. Sometimes I wonder if he’s keeping me as a plan B while building his life up there without me.