84097600 heartbeats

I watched as the plane took off into the blue painted sky & the same artist painted me purple & pink, the colors of both an old bruise & a skinned knee.

I cried as I drove home because I miss you & because I finally have something to miss. 

"I miss you most." You said, goofy smile plastered to the seat of a 10 hour flight.

"See you in 2 weeks" I said, throat tightening before all Hell broke loose in a 4-door mini-van, only I-15 witnessing my angst. 

2 weeks. 

2 weeks isn't long. 

But 2 years? 

2 years is long. 

That's 730 days when I'm here and you're there. 

And it hurts. 

I hurt.

What's worse is the clock was always running and there wasn't enough time (there's never enough time) but I let myself fall anyways.

And now I'll spend my next 84,097,600 heartbeats thinking of jokes to make you laugh and stories to make your eyes roll. 

Come back to me my Italian boy, who bakes ravioli & wears aprons.

Stay with me my Parisian boy, who holds stars in his eyes & eats macaroons.

Je vous aime mon garçon français, s'il vous plaît pensez à moi, je pense à vous.