Parking next to my guy's car is comforting

I miss my guy.

On Friday, I went out for lunch with my colleagues. It was at an all-you-can-eat sushi place. Both my guy and I typically avoid such restaurants, for we don't enjoy overeating and wanting to nap for the rest of the day. However, I was pretty good about not going into a sushi coma. The variety was nice.

After we had finished eating at the restaurant, I drove three of my other colleagues back to the office. I got a free spot in the parking lot, which was next to my guy's car.

Even though he has been away for a week, I feel comforted parking my car next to his. It's good.

Last week, when I drove over to the restaurant to meet my guy for dinner, I couldn't find his car. I drive a blue car, so it's easy to spot. In contrast, he drives a white car, which is pretty common.

I tried calling him, but his cell phone was dead and needed charging. He is horrible at charging it, but has always remembered my trick of putting it in airplane mode to charge it faster on the plane.

He walked over to me, as he spotted me when I first drove into the restaurant's lot. We walked over a part of the parking lot with gravel. He instinctually grabbed my hand and wanted to make sure that I was okay.

I miss his natural sweetness of just being himself.

On a good note, I have my purple woolly stuffed plush that reminds me of him. I would miss him a lot more if I didn't have purple woolly to cuddle.

One week down. Two more to go before I see him again.