A matter of hours.

He's going to be here in a matter of hours.

Seven months since I've seen him in person. Seven months since I felt his hands on my skin, since I felt his breath on his neck, or even since I just had his arms around me. And he's going to be here in a matter of fucking hours.

I can't decide if I want to be ecstatic, or terrified. I don't know how to react. I don't know what to think.

I should go clean the bathroom. It's filthy and I need a distraction or my brain will explode.

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No lie, this thing just told my my journal was too short at 99 words. Damn it.