Dave went back to Edinburgh yesterday; I was rubbish in the airport as always, but I'm usually okay by the time I get home an hour and a half later. That doesn't seem to be the case this time, though. I was feeling okay, but when I walked into the bedroom and I realised that I'd be sleeping alone, I just lost it. He left his dressing gown here because he didn't have enough room in his case, so I wrapped up in it, crawled into [his side of the] bed, turned the telly to World Poker Tour [which I absolutely LOATHE, but he watched religiously while he was here], and cried myself to sleep.
I've NEVER been like this about us being apart before. I mean, I've been upset and cried for a while, but I've spent most of today crying. It's freaking my dad out because it's not like me to act this way, but it all comes unbidden. I don't know what to do. *sniffle*