Leo’s been out of town since Sunday night.
I’ve been wearing the same pj’s since then.
We’ve eaten soup and pizza from a box.
I might put on a bra and take the kid to Chick-fil-a tonight. It would be good to get him out.
I let him pee in the driveway yesterday.
I watched Masfield Park and the Republic of Love on hulu. I read a chapter in the new book I’m reading. I let Simeon watch cartoons for five hours straight yesterday.
I’ve been in love with Leo since I was 14 years old (well at 14 it was more of a distance infatuation, but that grew to love). When we’re apart I’m not right. I’m not well. I miss him.
He sits in his hotel room, whever in the world he is and won’t see the sights, won’t visit with non work people. He waits anxiously to come home.
Home, where we’ll hide away from the world, just the three of us and enjoy our own company .We’ll try desperately to make up for the hours we’ve lost.
And I know it sounds really pathetic, but that’s when I’m right. That’s when I’m well. What can I say? All these years, I’m still love sick for my man.