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Story Notes:
I’ve been on the road for 12 hours, so this was entertainment for myself as well as an exercise in writing in first person. Hopefully I did okay.

It’s only been five hours, and I miss you. I miss your smile and your laugh and your hair and your hands and your mouth and you. I just miss you. I’m selfish to want all of you or to even miss you this much, but I don’t care.

On Friday, I left work early and drove up to see you for the first time in two weeks with the wind in my hair and you on my mind. I think about you so much, too much. I kissed you on your dormitory bed with the late evening sun leaking through the blinds and dried paint on your fingers. I professed my love to your lips and your neck and your thighs, and when I try to remember the night in detail, I can only imagine your face above mine, your hair in your eyes, and laughter in your voice. On Saturday, you bought me bagels at a little shop two blocks away while I was still asleep and we ate them on courtyard benches with fresh orange juice and I love you I love you I love you. You looked so alive as we walked through the city, and with this amazing city around us, I thought for the millionth time that I am so, so lucky to have your hand in mine. I carry your ring everywhere I go now because for the first time, forever is within reach. I tell myself that it’s two more months and then forever.

It’s so hard not having you here. I tell you that I miss you, but I don’t know if you’ll ever really understand how much. On Tuesday (or maybe the day before that or the day before that, the days have been melting into each other for awhile now), I woke up sweating and heaving and terrified that it was 2006 and my life was a countdown clock. I wanted to call you and hear your voice and listen to you promise me that you’re mine, but I couldn’t wake you because you’re in New York living your dream and I’m so, so selfish.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately. Thinking about you and thinking about us and thinking about the future that I’ll soon get to call ours. I want to buy you a house with a terrace here or New York or anywhere you want to live. I want to marry you in the summer, but I don’t think I can wait that long. I want to take you to see the Pacific Ocean because you’ve always wanted to go and I’ll work at Dunder Mifflin forever if it means I can make all your dreams come true. I want three kids— two boys and a girl— but when you ask, I’ll tell you that I’ll be happy no matter what and I love you I love you I love you.

I’m terrified of losing you. You’re it for me. You’re everything.

Tomorrow, I’ll close a big sale, maybe the one that will pay for the terrace or the Pacific Ocean or our wedding. On Tuesday, I’ll go on a sales call and buy a client lunch and buy myself a lemonade because you love lemonade and it makes me feel closer to you, makes two months seem a little shorter. On Wednesday, I’ll talk Michael down and pull a prank on Dwight with no one there to conspire with me. On Thursday, I’ll dream of you and only you. And on Friday, I’ll get to hold you and fall in love with you all over again and I love you I love you I love you.

Yours forever and always,


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