I cried over my morning cup of coffee.
I’ve been in a long distance relationship for the past year. The last two months, Dan has been here, going to school. It’s been better than I ever could have imagined.
He’s leaving in a week. We’ll be going back to weekends.
Every morning I wake up, and count how few days we have.
I don’t want to go back to only weekends.
I’m going to miss his coffee in the morning. I’m going to miss walking the dog together. I’m going to miss that stupid Final Fantasy music and banter about swords and axes. I’m going to miss snuggles before bed and goodbye kisses before work.
I don’t want to go back to only weekends.
Daniel has made my days, at a job I hate, seem not that bad. I get to come home to a man who is funny and sensitive and listens to what I say (mostly…) and loves me so much. I love to cook him dinner.
I don’t want to go back to weekends… I want him to stay or I want to go with him.
I want to go with him, back to the Sunshine City. I keep trying to concoct ways, excuses to uproot my entire life in one week and move back. Get a menial job, find a place with a yard and a porch… it sounds so perfect.
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