Last Weekend.

Another trip has come and gone, the fifth for us, and the last. 

The next time that I see Greg will be in 37 days, and we'll be packing up his Subaru and driving it back to St. George together. When we met back in November, I never assumed that we would be making this move in such a short amount of time, if ever. As much as I would like to say it's a compromise or mutual readjustment, it's nothing less than Greg giving everything for what he loves and believes in. When I'm busy trying to act "realistic" and setting deadlines or timelines, he steps in to remind me of what's important. He puts my happiness first when I can't do it for myself. So I owe this step to him.

Every-time we book tickets to see eachother, a countdown begins. Our phonecalls end in "See you in X amount of days!" Greg also likes to use fingers and toes as references. I make mental lists and plans. Places to hike, new restaurants to try, people to stop by and visit with. But so far, I've never failed to completely trash those plans, order pizza, and spend the weekend in his lap watching movies. We did a little better this time, spent Friday night getting drinks with our friends, and later talked some of them into seeing the horror flick Oculus. (Don't watch the part with the apples, ick.)

Saturday we made a stop at Nicole's because if anyone loves Greg more than I do, it's her kids. Cardon wasn't particularly fond of the mustache, but he crawled out from hiding after a few minutes to show off his Pokemon cards. We piled into my car, swung by to pick up my little sister Monique, and went to Iceburg for milkshakes and fries. (This is also a good time to bring up that Greg doesn't like fry sauce, something I intend to work on over the summer.) We spent the rest of the afternoon at the pool, watching Truman and Prentice try to wrestle eachother into the freezing water and laughed into tears when Prentice casually said, 

"oh my gosh you guys, I can't stop farting.." 

Sunday was my favorite. We laid in bed with the window open and our legs wrapped around eachother. Lucy was somewhere in the middle (of course), snoring under the covers. I got up to get a drink and noticed my camera on my nightstand. Greg had dozed off and I used the 10 slots left on my memory card to capture how sweet my life felt at that moment. 

 I miss him. 

The next morning we woke up hours before the sun was up and drove to the all-too-familiar Las Vegas airport. I was sporting my messy hair and oversized sweatshirt and he wrapped me up in his arms and reassured me over and over. "We're going to be okay, babe. This is the last time I'll ever have to leave you. We're going to be okay, I promise. Only 39 more days. I love you. I'll see you soon."