We slept in the same bed every night of summer, synchronizing every breath so that our bodies moved effortlessly together. Inhale. Exhale. Your stomach was pressed against my back, your chest heaving upwards with mine. You became my security blanket with your arm wrapped around my chest and rested on my heart.

Sometimes I lay in bed, tossing and turning for an hour or two until I can get my pillow in a position to best resemble you.

We were inseparable for months, maybe dangerously dependent on one another, but it felt right. We never fought. We laughed and we talked and on rare occasion we cried. Our lives became so intertwined that existing without you has become foreign. We are charting new territories. You map out an exciting new world while I care even less about these roads I know so well. I walk the same blocks every day — home, class, work, home.

You tell me everything about your new life, your experiences, your joy. You keep me informed, involved even. I know all of your new friends’ names, what you like about them, and what annoys you about them. I am happy for you, but I selfishly hurt. Everywhere I go is stained with memories of you, but then again I see you in everything anyway. Smoking is my refuge.

I crave the feeling of your bare skin on my bare skin, how warm it feels. I miss hugging you in the kitchen. I miss you grabbing my ass when you walk by. I miss massaging your shoulders. I miss kissing your neck. I miss pressing our mouths together, pressing my body into yours. I have an insatiable hunger for all of these things that can only be satisfied by you.

I struggle to communicate how I feel. I try to shake off the sadness that I am already inclined to feel. I try not to make it any harder than it is, but it’s out of our hands. We do everything we can, but it still hurts and sometimes it feels unbearable. “I just need you to be here,” you say, because no matter how amazing life can be, it just feels off, maybe incomplete. We will never adjust, but we will learn how to cope.

I take a deep breath and remind myself it’s temporary. We text throughout the day, talking about our lives together, our lives apart, and the trivial things that keep us going. I see your face when we Skype every night before bed. I can’t wait to run to you in the airport. I can’t wait to kiss you, to feel you, to sleep with you, to explore with you. One day we won’t be apart anymore, and life will be even more perfect. We’ll flesh out parts of that map together. For every sinking pain in my chest, I remind myself, I have so much to be happy for because I love you.