It’s almost an hour past midnight and I’m laying in bed listening to the ruckus my neighbors are making. On my tablet I’m talking to my boyfriend, halfway across the world, sharing sickening sweet messages with each other like we do every day.
With every hour and every minute that passes I try not to think of the fact that tomorrow night we’ll be talking like this for the last time for over half a year. We may have a couple of days where we can call each other, but most of my days will be filled with silence.
It’s hard. None of the underways he’s had feel like they sufficiently prepared me for this. We’re already separated by half the world as it is, and now the Navy is taking him to the middle east for possibly seven to ten months, reducing our contact to an email a day.
I’ll miss his voice and his laugh terribly.