H left on Sunday night. I'd hoped he'd wait till Monday morning to drive down to Portland. I wanted one more night with him in bed. Yeah, I know...I'm selfish.
I knew when they called last Thursday night, they'd want him on Monday. Everyone wanted a piece of him, myself included.
And now that he's gone, I can't think of anything else except going down on him. Kissing him, licking him, swallowing him. Every time I start to imagine it I get wet. Sopping, change your panties kind of wet.
It makes me antsy. There's a knot in my gut that physically hurts. A tightness in my chest. My mouth gets dry.
I hate it when he's gone. It brings out all my neediness, my insecurities. I feel unstable. And even though I know he'll be back late Friday night...the weekend will be a blur and I'll be back here sitting alone again.