Your sex is on fire.

I'm getting anxious. I'm ready to wake up to him every morning. I'm ready to be with him, 24/7, again. I'm counting every second and I've got 13 days left till he's here. 12 days, 22 hours and 56 minutes to be exact. 55 minutes. I can't just sit here and count. I need to be busy. I need this time to fly. Seven days isn't going to be enough. A lifetime wouldn't be enough. I'm starting to remember the little things I had to forget in order to stop hurting. The feel of his arms around me as we slept. The sound of his heartbeat. The warmth of his love. The moments where I could just drown in euphoria. I'm starting to remember the exact shape of his lips, and how they molded perfectly with mine. The things I never wanted to forget, but had to because of the pain. I just can't wait and I can't just let him leave. He could stay. We could figure out a way to make it work. Because I'm starting to remember how it feels to have it hurt that he's so far away.