Little things see me through the times when I’m alone. I slip on your t-shirt and inhale the faint scent of your cologne. Silly, I suppose, but it helps. I hug my pillow and hold on to the thought that you won’t be gone forever.
The grandfather clock chimes half-past eleven. That cursed time difference always messes with my head! Should you have already called? Or am I fretting over nothing?
I wish you were here with me now. I hate this feeling of missing you so much.
The phone rings, and I can finally stop holding my breath.