Did the plane that took you away from me land safely?
Did you have a chance to adjust to the time change before starting work?
How long will it be before I stop thinking "It's X o'clock there," when I check the time?
What, in the name of all things holy, made me think this would be easy?
How am I going to feel when you come back in a few months?
Why are the mornings and nights so hard, but the afternoons are okay?
Should I have said these things I now wish I'd said?
Do you realize ('cause I didn't, really) that you'll be gone until 2011? At least. I mean, I know it's five years, but when you put a date on it like that, it seems even farther away. The Gophers and Twins will be in their new stadiums. The next World Cup will have come and gone -- in South Africa, as it turns out. There will have been a summer and winter Olympics. Holy shit. That's a long time.
Is this what it feels like when you say, "I miss you so much it hurts."? Except it doesn't hurt, exactly. It's more like pressure, sitting on my chest; making me feel sick and constricting my breathing.
Will I look back on this in a month and think, "Jesus H. Christ, what was I thinking? I sound like a goddamn lunatic."
Will I ever publish this entry? Or will I just keep adding to it and saving the draft?
How are your toes?
Am I going to be sad when I get through a day and realize that I didn't think about you once? How long is it going to take me to get to that place?