It’s only been two days since I dropped Eamon off at the airport and I’m pretty miserable. His flight to Thule was delayed out of BWI, so I wasn’t sure when I would hear from him or if he was okay. I finally got a call at 1:30 in the morning.
I’ve been trying to keep busy as much as possible, but it hits me hard whenever I give myself a minute to think about it. Everyone says a year is not that long, but what do they know? That is probably the last thing I want to hear right now. It’s been 48 freaking hours and its way too long.
525, 600 minutes: how do you measure a year?
In late-night phone calls I hope.
You will survive!!!! I promise!
ReplyDeleteDude... I texted you 5 times tonight... okay they weren't very nice.... since the Indians did beat the Sox- but you never texted back... did you change your number... are you mad... where are you friend????
ReplyDelete