When it's hard to breathe, then we're close enough.

Let's take a moment and marvel at how hot he looks in the sweater I bought him...yum.

I still smell him on my skin.

No matter when it's a day or a couple weeks or a few months, it's just not long enough anymore. This is the most time we've spent together since the summer and it was delicious.

I bawled like an intolerable infant when he left. He practically had to peel my arms from around his neck in order to get into the car. Now my mope-around-the-house CD is spinning. These are the songs that really make me cry. They are good for me because they let me get it all out.

How do people keep it up for so long? I'm tired of being apart. My body aches and my house is empty even though I feel him here.

I have so much to get done, but don't feel like doing a darn thing. A common theme to my life, I know. Even though I'm lonely, I definately don't want to see or talk to anyone.

I know it's terrible to mope around feeling sorry for myself, but I don't think it can be helped today--I'll drag myself back to the land of the living tomorrow.

Life marches on. And on.