July 13 marked the second year of your physical absence, yet I didn’t even notice it come by. I used to mark the 13th of every month since you left so that I would not go crazy, so that I could celebrate the passage of time. I don’t know when I stopped counting; maybe it was when I stopped waiting.
Time really does fly when you don’t consciously watch it pass. After a year of waiting, things became easier. I could now sleep soundly at night. Of course I miss you, of course I am still waiting for you to come home, but I am no longer pining. You know I hate waiting; I get impatient very easily. I never thought I could wait this long…but I did.
Just don’t leave me again. A second time would be too much.
I hope to finally be with you again in a month and a half.