The Tears Speak For Themself

Im not a crybaby.
I rarely cry, ever.
I have flashes in my mind of five minutes ago. No, wait, one hour ago....the clock deceives me...or is it that nothing matters much until the whole two weeks has passed, until you return.
Like last time when I wrote about my favorite place...I memorized every minute detail about the feeling of being in your arms. Laying there, running my fingers over your chest, admiring you. Memorizing you, knowingly recording the essence of you as though it may never happen again. God forbid!
Although you tease me about how I won't miss you, I know underneath the tough exterior you are seeking reassurance like I am when I say the same things to you.
Your disbelief draws out more of my insisting promises that I will in fact miss you, more than you will miss me, and that I am already missing you even though you are right here.
This makes me tear up so I change the subject immediately.
Our whole tone was different tonight. We argued heatedly as you were on your way. Both of us yelling, you saying my name in a way you never have. It both turned me on, and astonished me that you could have such an effect on me.
As soon as you walked through the door, the fight was cast aside, the build up of intense passion now being fuel for something constructive. Even that was different. I let out more assertiveness, more 'fiesty' attitude as you call it...you did as well. It was a contradiction. Lovemaking, with a twist of ....I dont know what. Like that crazed look a killer gets in their eye, you know that electricity that radiates with that feeling. It is a crazy mix.
Bizarre.
You cant leave...I want to shout it at him, he senses this and sees my sadness.."babe, you know I never leave, but I have to go...my flight leaves soon"...
At the door, the toughness is gone. He sees I am raw. Im about to expose that side. The kiss is sweet, too short, and over before I know it. "I'll call you when I get in, don't worry babe..."
And with that he was gone.

And I can't stop crying...