This is how my heart misses him.

Sometimes I forget that this is MY blog and it is about MY thoughts 

I find myself wanting to write things that people will enjoy

and maybe not the things that I hold near and dear to my heart.

Maybe I am scared of letting all my readers into my life. . .

But then again, I am a writer - this is what I do best 

plus, I have nothing to hide.

It has been a long:

7,717,200 seconds.

119,520 minutes.

1992 hours.

83 days. 

12 weeks (almost).

2 months and 22 days.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

I have never been one to proclaim my love for boy - that just isn't the way I roll. Yes, I write up glorious romantic stories that make hearts flutter and some of my stories might be sappy enough to read over and over again. But never do I just stand and shout, "I am in love!" . . . And why not?

Sometimes I joke around and claim to be a "commitment-phob" but ladies and gentlemen I am the farthest thing from that. I think instead, I commit so fast that it scares me to admit it. . . well, here I am admitting it to the cyber world.

However, I am scared of love. I am scared of making myself vulnerable to heart ache and pain. . . or at least I thought I was.

One summer night when I was eighteen my sister-in-law, Sandi, told me that you will just know when you are in love. 

"What is that suppose to mean?"

I tried finding love. And my freshman year in college I was all but engaged. . . long story short: I wanted to find love, I wanted to find my Mr. Prince Charming and I was doing all I could to make it happen. But  I couldn't do it. I couldn't love him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Fast forward to this last summer.

On a boat in Lake Powell I sat next to Deven his hand held mine the way he always did.  A blanket of stars covered the night sky. Usually Deven and I could talk for hours and never run out of things to say, but tonight we just sat there and admired the galaxies and worlds above us. 

I heard him swallow.

"Kelsie, you are beautiful. Did you know that?"

"Thank you-" 

"No, Kelsie do you understand that you are the most beautiful girl that I have ever met. But not only that, there is something about you that is just different - a good different."

I smile, he wasn't finished. 

He tightened his hand around mine as he spoke.

"Kelsie, I love you."

I felt magic.

And for a moment I thought I understood the words that Sandi had said, "You will just know."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Today I just want to hear his voice.

I want him to try warming my freezing hands in his.

I want to hear rocks being thrown at my window and find a Happy Wednesday note sitting on my night stand even though it is Friday. 

. . . perhaps today I will get a letter from Mexico.