He leaned on my chest, hands clasped together as a chin rest.
“Sarah, sweetheart, you’ll have it easier next year” He mumbled, moving his hand to my cheek, gently wiping away a tear. “You’ll have new friends, new experiences, new places to go and new things to do. You won’t forget. You’ll never forget. But you won’t miss me as much as you think you will.” He wiped away another tear.
“Babe, love, we’ll make it work. I promise. If we both want it to work, it will work. We can last, sweetheart, we can make it.”
I pulled him down onto me into the type of hug that makes your bones want to cry from mental longing, the need to be as close as possible countered with the inability to get any closer.
“God I love you, Sarah, more than you will ever know.”