To see through the sadness my heart feels as I watch him get dressed. Watching him pack his things. Pull on his boots or grab his jacket. All the things I won’t be watching again for months. Little, mundane tasks I’m trying to sear into my mind so I’ll never forget. How his fingers look when he’s hooking his belt through his jeans. How his brow furrows when he’s trying to figure out how to get a little more space out of his carry-on. Even though I know he will come back to me, knowing that we’re starting something so beautiful off with a big, ugly fog surrounding us has me in pieces.He looks over when he finishes zipping the last zipper and gives me a sad smile. I’m sure my eyes are looking at him exactly as his are gazing into mine. Like this is it and if we don’t see each other again, then we should make this second last a lifetime.I bring a hand up and angrily swipe away a tear. I hate crying. It’s a sign of weakness, but I’m helpless to stop them. My heart, while full to bursting with the knowledge that he is mine, is breaking.“Dani-girl,”
