Little Moments

The pain of separation is more distinct this time than it has been in the past.

Little things remind me of her. I mistake strangers for her even though I know damn well she's not here. A smile or a movement of the eyes will remind me of her and make me think of her smile and the way she moves her eyes.

I think it's because I'm worried about her. Of course, I worry about her often - not, of course, that I could do much if I were around to help her, but I could certainly do something to reduce her stress levels and fatigue. But all the same, I worry about her when she's so far away. Small things, big things, anything that happens and I'm not sure how quickly I could get down there to help her and it would tear me apart not to be able to support her in any sort of real difficulties. This is a long-distance thing at this point, though. This is the downside. Winter break can't come quickly enough (even if it is 17 pages of essay about Monsters away right). I've had more than enough of this long-distance nonsense and it's about time I get a chance to really get to know her as a lover and companion without the pressures of inclement departure. I'll finally have some room to really stretch out and explore this thing we've built for ourselves with words and distant photos. I can make myself a little more comfortable.

And then another semester? Yikes. I'm starting to see why the seniors I've known in the past were so eager to get the hell out of Potsdam.