I hate distance. You are a freaking million miles away. I hate that I can’t share life with you. All we get to do is talk. We consist of so much more than that. Yet, that’s all we have.

I miss taking you to the butcher shop.
I miss looking for you after chapel.
I miss sitting beside you on your bed in your room.
I miss walking with you and holding your hand.
I miss crossing our legs, facing each other, and praying together.
I miss going star gazing with you.
I miss having tickling matches with you.
I miss your moodiness.
I miss hobby lobby with you.
I miss sitting at Wendy’s in your car eating our food.
I miss cooking with you.
I miss sitting beside you in church.
I miss leaning up against you while you recline reading a book or surfing the web.
I miss hearing your heart beat.
I miss kissing you.
I miss smelling you.
I miss feeling your warmth.

I miss just freaking getting to be with you.
I miss you.

Whatever, this is stupid. I am going to be so freaking glad when this month and a half are over. Thanksgiving was hard enough. Christmas was a killer. This is multiples larger. I hope it is not as hard for you as it is for me, because it really sucks. I never want to ever ever do this again.

Yeah, you know, I want to be with you in December. I’m ready. But then again, I was ready last November. I’ve made it this far, but the further I go along, it gets exponentially harder. Maybe that is selfish of me, but I love you, and I belong with you. I was made for you and you were made for me, and I’m ready to be with you. A month and a half seems like long enough, and NEXT summer seems like an eternity.

We started dating 4 months and 10 days ago. 7 months ago, I was ready to marry you. I can’t wait for us to be us. I love you. I look foward to when your individual life and my individual life are united and we don’t have to be separated any longer.

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