It’s really something, the way my heart races and flutters and floats high up into my throat. And the way his name is always on my lips. The way I’ve settled into the missing him, and it hurts but only in a gorgeous way. The way he tells me that he misses me, and I know that he means it. His voice on the phone and the way he tells me stories about his day, the way he calls me muffin and puppy and booboo. I couldn’t be happier. The thought of him, in the flesh, again–so soon, now, I tell myself–it makes my heart skip more than a beat and I imagine it over and over, the way I will feel when I set eyes on him and the way my hand will surely fly to my chest, resting just over my heart before he scoops me into a hug and I will kisskisskiss him a million times and then some more. It’ll be heaven.