she's
actual
size

Well...

He's gone.

Please pardon my absence for the last few days. I've been rather jealous of the time that I had with Dave, and every minute seemed to count. I hardly wanted to go to sleep, because it meant we'd be wasting hours and hours of time together.

We woke up rather late today. He had some errands he wanted to run today before he left, so we went to breakfast and flitted here and there. The time went far too quickly. His car was packed, his keys were in his hand, and suddenly we were looking at each other, facing another goodbye and realizing that neither of us knew what to say.

I wrapped my arms around him and tried to will the world away. We whispered endearments and goodbyes in each other's ears. I told him to drive safely. I watched him drive to the end of my parking lot. I watched him wave to me once more. I waved back.

And he was gone.

I went back into my apartment, melted into the couch and sobbed. When I finally dried my eyes and got up to walk through my apartment, I realized he'd left a few things behind. A bottle of aspirin. His toothpaste. His griffin puppet. I got an overwhelming urge to run outside and scream at the top of my lungs, "Come back! You forgot your toothpaste!" I knew that he wouldn't hear me, but I thought... I thought he might remember that he forgot something and come back for it. So I could see him again. So I could kiss him again. So I could give him one last hug goodbye.

Foolishly, I waited almost two hours for his imaginary return. I knew he wasn't coming back, not today. I was hoping, though.

I can't even begin to describe how lonely I feel right now.

It's quiet. There's no one sitting on the couch watching me type. There's no one upstairs in the bathroom, shaving his face. There's no one in the kitchen doing my dishes. There's no one here but me.

We had ten days together this time. Ten days to bond and get to know one another better than we ever have before. Ten days to have fun, to do things, to love each other. Ten days that I didn't want to end. When I found out he was going to be here for that long, I was worried that we would run out of things to do or thing to talk about. Turned out that ten days was far too short a time. Ten days just weren't enough time at all.

I want him back. Now. But I won't see him again until early September.

And now I'm going to go watch the lightening bugs, and remember. And try not to cry.