At the moment, I am at the absolute limit of what I can handle. It appears that what I can handle is my boyfriend being an atheist, angrily talking about right winged religious nuts in front of my mother in a very public environment. Announcing that you disagree with my family's core beliefs in Wal-Mart? That's okay.

What I can't seem to handle is this unsettling feeling I got the moment he left to fly back to England. Didn't I mention that he lives there while I live in this flat land called Minnesota?

See, when people talk about missing each other, saying cheesy lines like "You complete me" or "Never gonna let you go", I usually turn my ears off. But see, at the moment, while I sit alone with my cats on my bed, wasting time until I drift off into sleep, it feels as though some crucial part of me is missing. It's like when someone is hungry, but the person doesn't have a stomach, or when an artist sits down to draw, but he doesn't have any hands. It's like trying to walk and finding that you have no feet, or feeling that your feet are itchy, but they aren't there.

What I'm missing in my life is someone who will hold me when I cry, and tease me until I laugh, someone who I can lean upon, or get angry with, or argue about whether or not it's right to hate a racist person, no matter who that person may be. It's like their lips should never leave mine, their body never escape my hold, their eyes never leave my gaze.

I miss my angry atheist, after two and a half weeks of living with him. I found that not only do I still enjoy his company, but each time I got to tell him "Good morning", or be able to kiss him, and each second I spent with him, I fell further in love with him.

Now that he's gone, I'm sad, and the only thing I can smile about is knowing that I won't stop until he's in my arms once again.

As always,

The Christian.