Sixty-one reasons to be miserable.
I got home about two minutes ago, dropped my bags temporarily in the front hall as I tried to decide whether or not I wanted to do a load of laundry tonight (no), watched my mum put mac and cheese in the microwave for me, unloaded the few gifts I had for my family from my bags, then dragged my stuff upstairs to my room. I put down my stuff and stood there in the darkness for a few moments, letting my eyes adjust.
And burst into tears.
I hurt. Oh man, how I hurt. Because that was maybe the best week I've ever had, from start to finish, from hikes in Minnesota mountains (YES they exist) to s'mores to frisbee to coffee to Olympics to high heels on wet rocks to sharing a bed to waking up in the morning to begin where the night before ended. It was amazing, and now it's over, and that wouldn't be so bad if the one person who made it the best week was close by. But he's not. And it's a while before I get to see my boy again.
And oh god, you guys, how I love this boy.
~*~
And burst into tears.
I hurt. Oh man, how I hurt. Because that was maybe the best week I've ever had, from start to finish, from hikes in Minnesota mountains (YES they exist) to s'mores to frisbee to coffee to Olympics to high heels on wet rocks to sharing a bed to waking up in the morning to begin where the night before ended. It was amazing, and now it's over, and that wouldn't be so bad if the one person who made it the best week was close by. But he's not. And it's a while before I get to see my boy again.
And oh god, you guys, how I love this boy.
~*~