days....hours...minutes....count them down. The more that go by, the farther I get away from him. The sooner I leave him. The more it bothers me. Thought I'd be fine, and I will be, but I want the goodbye to satisfy me. I want there actually to be one. It hit me the other yesterday. I remember crying about this event a year ago. Knowing it would come, but I get anxious after a week of not seeing him. Two weeks sets me to distraction. But i have to wait a full month before I can see him. I need him. I admit to even loving him....