There was something I was going to remember to tell you tonight when we had our recently routine 15-20 minute post work/pre sleep phone call, but I forgot. I always forget everything the moment I hear your voice. It's almost as if your voice is a clean slate that completely replaces my entire day. But then the very instant I don't have it anymore, when we hang up the phone, I swear every emotion I was able to avoid or auto-pilot through all day long just comes crashing in ready to leave me overwhelmed and glued to my driver's seat in the parked car outside of my house in thirty one degree weather. I wasn't sure whether I should let myself shiver or cry, so I ended up doing both. The motivation to drag inside was reached a few minutes before midnight. As I walked in, a helicopter flew overhead. Damn helicopters, you know.
We have finally made it to the last day of this horrifically dreary and never-ending month. I fear that the months will only get longer from here now that we're closer to reaching the gold, to being able to, at last, have the freedom to live together. Not only will we finally be in the same state again, but we will share a home! Two more weeks until you're finished with wartime training, and we can get back to our normal long-distance relationship forms of communication. Things will surely get back to normal then regarding the stability of my emotions and all.
Ninety nine days until I have my B.S.
Ninety nine days until I can move permanently to be with you again. I have never been this anxious in my lifetime. This is so hard, and I'm ready to be able to put an end to the distance. I can confidently say that we deserve it.