If you had told me when I was 15 years old that I would be longing for a boy to come back, I would have slapped you. But now that I'm 21 and have just broken up with the boy of my dreams, I'm starting to think that you wouldn't have been that far off. When I told my mom that missing Logan came and went in waves, I was lying. So much. I miss him constantly. I can't get him out of my head! Every time I drink a cup of coffee, I think about the time that he set the coffee cart guy on me for a day. Every time I walk through town I think about when I took him here, and all the things he said. Then, the stupid, practical part of my brain tells me that I wasn't ready to marry him. I couldn't have, no matter how much I wanted to. I need time! I'm 21! I'm not ready for that kind of commitment! Not that I don't want to get married, or don't love Logan, but. . . I can't do it, not yet.

And when I saw that stupid "love rocket" that he gave me before he left for London, well that stunk. You know, I never really understood why he gave that to me when he left. It seems weird. A rocket? I mean really, who gives their girlfriend a rocket for a good-bye present? Apparently, my kind of guy.

I snapped back into reality when my mom left me to unpack. I picked up the rocket and looked at the bottom. "Set latitude, longitude, and minutes here," it said next to a screen and a tiny key pad. "Will fly up to 5000 miles on full charge." I sat down heavily on the end of my bed. 5000 miles…