At one week, I am wistful.
At two weeks, I am sad.
At three weeks, I realize that I can barely remember your voice, and that's when I really start to lose hope, panic, and want to run.
I don't really want to run from YOU, but I want to run from how horribly vulnerable that makes me feel, how horrible it feels to long for something so damn bad.
The simple fix would be a phone call. But even that's so hard to coordinate, that has to be planned to. I work when you sleep. You work when I could call. I sleep when you're available.
And then there's the whole part where I have to admit that this is what I miss, this is what makes me crazy, and wonder if admitting that will weird you out.
So instead... I just sit and suffer. Blah.