You're only a few hundred kilometers from me, following your dream. You'll be back in a month, but I miss you so. This is our first weekend apart, and I don't know what to do with myself. I worked on my paper all day yesterday, and I felt good having all my time to myself again. But as the skies turned dark and I was ready to call it a day, I found myself wishing I could go home with you. Only you're in Cebu. 36 more days. Seems an eternity. Why is it I feel more alone now than I ever did before I met you?