It's been almost an entire week since I last saw you, heard your voice, your cackle, or your goofy noises that you make. It's been almost a week since we played pool together and worked the pub like two con artists hungry for some hapless idiot who looks damn good in a pair of slacks. It's been too long. I miss you.
This sums up Amy and my relationship pretty darn well. I have told her a million times, if we both aren’t married by the time we are 40 I want to claim her as my life partner, she just, gets me. Also, the hapless idiot usually find us and we convince him that I am a librarian and that Amy is in a motorcycle gang, and that we are both southern.
