Saturday, June 12, 2010

Wednesday, June 9th.

I felt sick to my stomach as we inched closer to the MTC. Tears pooled in my eyes as we rode. I didn't make eye contact, but found solace in twirling my hair. At home I had busied myself with things he could have forgotten, but in the van i was only left with my thoughts, which was dangerous. It's hard to say how many times I've cried this week. More than ever, I feel.
Watching him walk away was hard. Walking back to the car was even harder, I walked fast and ahead of everyone has the tears spilled onto my face.
I dreaded the day when i day to go home. His room unoccupied except for some clothes he left. The kitchen will feel empty without his dance moves and him constantly telling me he's the smooth criminal. There will no longer be dance offs late at night, and no more quirrels over dinner.
Girls camp was a good distraction. It kept me busy and from crying over his leaving.
Home isn't as bad as I thought, although I still feel like he will walk in any minute. I'm expecting him to come home and tell me that I didn't ask to wear his jacket. But, he won't. For two years at least. He's going to be good though. I know it.


Jenna said...

cailey, you are such a good writer! thanks for the post, although it made me cry! i am so sorry. and you know if you need anything i am here!