The last two days have proven my most klutz-prone in weeks. Months, perhaps, if we're willing to lie to ourselves with just a tiny bit of fervor.
I am.
I have a bruised arm, leg, second arm, waist, near-buttock region, and ankle.
If it hadn't already crossed your mind, I'll establish the pleasant end of this situation: I am having the medicinal time of my life.
And...A shift in thought leads me to:
I miss him. I desperately, eagerly miss him. There is nothing in my life I have ever longed for in such a sublimely serious way, nothing I have ever needed as much as I vulnerably and earnestly need him.
I hope he'll come back to me soon enough.
Or vice versa.
Merely the cost of airfare will determine our reunions.
As humorous as I seek to be, a weight has suddenly fallen over my chest. My eyes find themselves tensing, straining from the force that compels them downward. A tightened throat accompanies.
I miss him.
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