It's raining outside. It has been for a few days. The rain matches my miserable mood. I miss you more than I ever thought was possible. I knew I'd miss you a lot, but this…this is killing me. You're on tour for a month with the company. A MONTH. And I don't know what to do with myself. We haven't gone longer than a week without seeing each other since we started dating and I feel like I'm going crazy.

It doesn't help that we were arguing a bit before you left. Nothing major, really. Just little tiffs brought on by nerves. We were both anxious about this time apart and how it would affect us. I'm not sure why we let it get to us. Our spats were never long and we always laughed about them later. I think we were just scared and caught up in it. I could see how tense your shoulders were, and how nervous you were- your face not lighting up the way that it usually did, your lips in a perpetual straight line- you were always so distracted. And I, I will admit, sometimes was pushing buttons on purpose to get your attention. I'm not usually like that, I've never been like that before. I guess you're just different, babe. The things I feel for you scare me sometimes and I don't always know how to react.

We've only been dating for four months, and you being gone for a whole month now feels like an eternity. We're still in the honeymoon stage of our relationship- a stage that I hope we never fully leave and intend on working my hardest to keep. I will admit that I'm glad we had our little nervous argument stage, because now that you've been gone, I feel like I was able to figure out why it happened and either avoid it in the future, or not get so worked up about the same triggers, knowing why they're there.

I'm supposed to be writing. I'm supposed to be working on new songs, but all I can think about is you. Usually that sparks me into a frenzy of words and poems, sweetness written down only for you. Not today. Today I can only stare out into the rain and wish you were here with me, wrapping your arms around me and kissing my neck. You're not here to be my cuddle buddy. Sleep has been hard, your pillow in my bed will never be you. Your left behind shirts will never be you. Everything holds the promise of you, but the reality is so much better. So much better than I would have ever imagined for myself, or dreamed up, or hoped for. I don't know where you came from or why I was ever looking for anyone other than you, but baby, I'm glad I found you.

When the rain lets up I'm going to head over to your apartment. You asked me to get the mail every few days and water the plants you have. You don't live alone, like I do. You have a roommate, but she's also in the company and you're both gone. I'll be your errand girl. I'll do anything you ask me and you've already figured that out. I'm pretty sure you figured it out after our first date, but you don't take advantage of it.

I love going over there and I hate going over there. I love it and hate it for the same reason: because when I walk in the door, you are all I can smell. And you're not there. Every corner teases me with the possibility that you'll be walking around it smiling your special smile, but you won't be.

We also had a major argument in your living room the last time we were both there. I don't want to call it a fight, but it was big. And I'm sorry. I think back on it and cringe. Pillows were thrown, backs were turned, there was a lot of walking away, exasperated hands in the air, you finally walked into your bedroom and slammed the door. And I walked out of the front door, and slammed it harder. I remember walking home that night in a haze of anger and nerves, and regret. I shouldn't say I walked, it was more of a storm. By the time I walked up my steps and put the key in the lock to open the door I was on the verge of tears. What if this month apart cooled whatever we had going? What if on this month of traveling you met someone else, someone better? What if you figured out that I wasn't worth the work? That my grumpiness and different moods were too much and you wanted someone easier? I was sobbing by the time I walked into my apartment. I threw my purse down on the ground and fell face first into my couch.

A few minutes later my door buzzed. Hoping it was you and not someone who just wanted access to the second floor, I jumped up. When I grunted out my greeting, I heard your voice, quiet and small answer me back. I pushed the buzzer quicker than I ever had in my life and threw my front door open. You ran down the hall and bounded into my arms and kissed me like you never wanted to stop. When you finally pulled away, you kissed all over my face, before going back to my lips and pushing me towards my bedroom, slamming the front door shut with your leg.

It felt like we were on fire that night. No words were needed, just heavy breathing, moaning, panting, gasping, ecstasy. If I didn't already know that I loved you, that night in my bed would have sealed the deal.

I smile as I remember how your hair fell around your face framing us while you were still on top of me, kissing me slowly, sleepily. Those are some of my favorite kisses. The ones where we're so tired from loving each other, but don't want to stop yet. We were in a cocoon of each other, we didn't need anything else. Your body against mine, on top of mine, melding with mine, was heaven.

You pulled away, and I followed you, stealing one more kiss from your lips. You opened your eyes and they were a clear, clear, blue. You mumbled a soft 'hi', and I smiled and mumbled one back. They were the first real words we had said to each other in hours.

You looked bashful for a minute before you met my eyes with yours and told me you were sorry. I smiled and kissed you and said it was ok, and I was sorry, too. You admitted that your nerves weren't just about leaving, but you were worried about your abilities. You wanted to be the best you could be for the company. When you finally told me that, everything seemed to click into place. I grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down for another kiss. Short, sweet, perfect. Your eyes were a brilliant blue when I admitted that my nerves were because I had never felt like this with anyone else. You kissed me again with more passion than before and I felt something inside me shift. When we broke apart you let your weight fall back on me and nuzzled your face into my neck kissing me, breathing me in. I stroked your hair and your back, keeping you rooted in that spot. I could feel how relaxed you were, all the tension and anxiety gone.

I had just started to drift off when I felt, more than heard, you mumble into my neck that you were really going to miss me. I squeezed you hard and felt a lump in my throat form. I waited a few seconds before responding that I was really going to miss you, and didn't know what I was going to do with myself while you were gone.

And now you're gone and I have to go stand in the middle of your apartment like I'm just waiting for you to come home. In a way, I am just waiting for you to come home. It's been two weeks, we're halfway through this. You call me every night after your show and we talk, but never for very long. We text each other during the day, you've mailed me a few postcards and signed them 'you secret admirer'. When I got that first postcard from Ohio, I thought my face was going to crack open I was smiling so hard. Babe, I need to tell you I love you, come back home. I started sending you picture texts of funny things I see around the city, things I know you'll giggle at.

I know, in the long run, these four weeks will feel like nothing. I know that when we've been together for five years, ten years, twenty years, these four weeks will feel like barely a blip. But, we're still so new, and fresh, that these four weeks feel like eternity.

But, I know I love you. I haven't told you yet. I see the spark in your eyes, the way they crinkle in happiness whenever you look at me. You haven't said it yet, either. But we both say it without saying it. I knew I loved you after our epic third date. And then I really knew I loved you after that argument.

You told me on the phone last night after I told you I missed you for the thousandth time that you think these four weeks are making us stronger. They are testing our feelings and solidifying them, making us who we are as a couple. I could feel myself falling even harder for you in that moment and almost blurted out 'I love you' right then and there. But I held my tongue. I want to see your face light up when I tell you. And then I want to show you. After we hung up from each other, I sat in bed for a while and thought about what you said. This month is testing us for sure, but it is strengthening us. I know just how much I feel for you, care for you and love you. You're not here with your legs and your smile and your perfect body to distract me from really figuring out how I feel. I know that I only want to be with you.

My phone chirping with a text on the coffee table jolts me out of my thoughts. I sit staring out the window for a while longer, still not working, and decide instead to head over to your place. You have a bigger tv than I do and a cozier couch. I need a change of scenery. I grab my umbrella and my phone and throw on the hoodie you left with me, the one that smells so much like you I almost don't want to wear it, and make the short trek.

When I open the door everything about you hits me like a ton of bricks. It always does. I stand there for a moment letting it wash over me, and then I walk in. I water the plants and make some coffee before settling down in your spot on the couch pulling your favorite blanket over my legs. I find a movie I haven't seen yet on TV and feel myself start to relax. The movie gives me with some poetic inspiration, so I grab my notebook out of my bag and begin writing. I lose track of time in my words and don't realize how late it is until my stomach grumbles in protest. I order take out from your favorite place and go back to writing.

After I eat and clean up, I decide I don't want to leave. I felt more comfortable here today than I do in my own apartment. I was surrounded by you even though you weren't here, and I needed to feel you. I cuddle up again on the couch and find another movie to watch. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I see is scrolling credits. I get up and get ready for bed, brushing my teeth with the pink toothbrush you bought for me, and waltzing to your room, pulling on an old t-shirt of yours before sliding into bed.

And then I am enveloped in you.

I bury my nose in your pillow and your sheets and breathe you in. I know that I'll sleep better tonight than I have since you left, but your pillows and sheets still aren't you. Babe, I miss you so much.

I flick on the TV you keep in your room to repeats of a show I've seen a million times and pull a magazine off your desk. The sounds of your ringtone coming from the nightstand bring a huge smile to my face. I greet you with a purr and hear you smile through the phone. I ask how your performance went that night and you tell me in detail. You go on to tell me how boring the city you're in is, and how they didn't have too many food options. Then you ask me how my day went and I tell you it was raining and miserable and matched my mood. I hear you pout, and imagine your face. You apologize for leaving for the millionth time and I tell you to stop for the millionth time. This is your career and I love it and you. I would never hold you back from your dreams.

We found out you'd be leaving on tour three weeks ago, when we had finally started settling into a comfortable routine with each other. You were excited but sad that you'd be leaving me. I was ecstatic for you and told you we'd be ok. And we have been.

I burrow further into the covers and you ask me if I'm already in bed. "I am, but not where you think."

There are some nerves in your voice when you ask what that meant, before I chuckle and tell you "I'm in your bed." in a low, sultry, voice. The frustrated sigh I get back in return makes my day.

We both sit in silence with each other before you ask, "Why are you sleeping at my place?"

My truthful answer "It's hard to sleep without you" is hard for me to say and harder for you to hear. I fix it by adding "It's easier to sleep here, enveloped in everything you, except you." I can tell you're smiling again, and hear you yawn. I decide to let you get some sleep, telling you how much I miss your smiles. You gently remind me we could easily facetime- and we have a few times- but something about the phone is more romantic. I like picturing what you look like as you say sweet things to me. I like sending you pictures throughout the day. I love the postcards you send me. It makes our distance more epic, more romantic. It makes me appreciate every little thing we give each other even more.

You start getting the mumbles, the way you do when you're half asleep and I smile a huge, dimply smile, before letting you go. 'Sweet dreams, baby."

You hum, "Night, sweetheart."

When I hang up the phone I still have a smile on my face. I sink further down into your sheets and turn off the lights. The TV still hums in the background, but all I can think about is you, you, you.

You are everything.

You are my love.

And I'm going to tell you soon.