I should go to sleep. I know I should. I work in about nine hours or so, and had a pretty eventful weekend. I could probably use the rest. Truth be told, though, I’m kind of avoiding my bed.
You see, I spent this weekend with my girlfriend. Long-distance girlfriend, to be exact (elaboration on the same, I don’t have multiples). Us both being strapping examples of twenty-something-energy-is-wasted-on-the-young, we spent most of that time in bed. My bed. And seeing as how she just left a few hours ago (okay, like, eight) I’m still walking around my apartment in a kind of daze that she’s not hiding from me just around the next corner, waiting to pop out and do something silly.
When I gathered her from the airport on Friday, it felt like a dream that she was here. Now it feels like a dream (and a really bad one) that she is gone. Every minute we spent together this weekend felt so effortless and perfect… I’m almost in denial that I have to go back to the life that I had, that I had to dredge myself through every day.
It’s miserable to be so far from someone that you care so much about. The only thing that keeps Minneapolis tolerable is the knowledge that eventually every day will be as easy and wonderful as this weekend, and that if I hadn’t moved away, we wouldn’t even be together. That last clause kills me.
But, when life hands you lemons… you go to Frederick’s and start planning some devious surprises.
Freezing our asses off, but still Cute As Hell™.
