Airports create emotions that I haven’t expressed anywhere else in my life. Seeing the love of my life with luggage rolling behind him through the terminal gave me butterflies and goosebumps and it felt like day one all over and oh my God, I am so in love. There is no joy comparable to seeing him for the first time in 53 days. There is no greater sadness than watching him leave to make his way through the maze of suitcases and nomads back to the Midwest, while I am stuck, isolated in New York. I never imagined how difficult the goodbye would be, because the hello was so sweet, so succulent, so rich. Seeing him leave was like tearing my throat out and stepping on my toes. I wanted him to stay, but don’t we all? It has been thirty minutes since he got out of the Passat and I miss him and his touch and his smile and his jokes and all of him that I had for the past five days that I won’t feel again until December. The sense of security and comfort and ease he provides is indescribable. I am back on a countdown until I’m in his arms once more.