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He’s so proud of her. He misses her, of course. Phone calls and video chats feel different when she’s three hours away instead of 20 minutes, and weekends when he isn’t able to head to New York seem to drag on, but he knows it’s not forever. She only has two more months - well, a month and three weeks (not that he’s counting or anything) - of classes, and then she’ll be back. He waited this long, he figures he can wait a couple more months.

Especially when those months are filled with text messages, IMs, and pictures she sends everyday. Little doodles, updates on her art projects, quick “I miss you”s, he loves them all. He hears the ping on his phone as he gets in the car to go home, and after seeing what she had sent him, he calls her. 

“Hey!”

He grins, “Angela as a cat, huh? And here I thought you wouldn’t be able to top Kevin as a hot dog.”

“That was some of my best work, wasn’t it?”

“MOMA worthy, really.”

She laughs, “More like the side of the fridge worthy.”

“I’ll let you know that some of my finger paintings are still on the side of my mom’s fridge, and I am very proud of that.”

She laughs again and then he hears someone call out her name and the phone muffles a little as she brings it down to answer their question. As he waits for her to finish, he holds the phone between his shoulder and ear and backs out of his parking space. It’s moments like this, when she gets interrupted by someone she knows but he doesn’t so he has to just sit there awkwardly, or when he gets her new friends’ names mixed up because there’s so many of them, or when she can only talk for a second because she’s about to go out with said new friends, and he really feels the distance between them. And he knows it’s stupid, because she makes sure to tell him about all of her new friends, and makes sure to pick up the phone, even if for only a second, before going out without him, so it’s not like she’s trying to live a life without him. He just can’t imagine not having her again, that these little moments where he’s reminded that they’re together, just not together, have him missing her a little more. 

After a moment she says to him, “Sorry. Hey, are you still coming up this weekend?”

He shakes his head, pulling himself back, “Yeah, I was gonna drive over after work on Friday.”

“Good, I miss you.”

And then there’s moments like these, when he can hear the disappointment in her voice when he has to cancel a weekend visit, or when she calls him, drunk, after going out and tells him how much she wishes he was there with her, that the missing her doesn’t stop, but it gets a little easier to ignore. Because he knows she’s counting down the days until she’s home too. 

Besides, it’s only another month and three weeks. 



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