I hate goodbyes.

Not just the short, sad goodbye at the airport. The feelings you have afterward. Coming home to a house that is empty, except for the fresh memories that assail you as you walk in the door.

There are pieces of him all through the house. It seems I can't look anywhere and not see him. I open my refrigerator and there is his half drunken bottle of black cherry soda. In the bathroom there are hairs in the shower that are not mine. When I go to bed, there are traces of him on the sheets and his smell on my pillow. All of this is driving me nuts. It will be two months until I see him again. All of these things will eventually fade. Except the memories. They will continue to haunt me until we are together again.