So, Sloan left today for Seattle.
He's going up there a week early to help landscape the yard for the wedding while I stay and work for another week.
I miss him dreadfully.
Okay, so he's only been gone for about 7 minutes from when I started this post, but I miss him more than I anticipated at this point in the separation.
Now, I don't cry too often (only when my clothes don't fit or I can't figure out how to work the DVD player), so when I imagined Sloan leaving this week for Bainbridge, I figured I'd shed a solid, somber tear in the face of his departure, and then move on to my more independent, womanly duties such as watching Daisy of Love and rearranging the furniture over and over again. Essentially, as I would watch Sloan pull away in his Jeep for the Great Pacific Northwest, I envisioned myself reacting like this (aren't I pretty?):
But I do not feel like that. That is not how I feel. I FEEL LIKE THIS:
NO I WILL NOT CALM DOWN YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW I JUST WANT HIM BACK HERE YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ONLY SLOAN DOES COME BAAAAAACK!