My best friend has been gone for almost two weeks.  I’m counting the days when I get back from Florida and I can finally lay my eyes and arms on the person I share everything good with; from laugh attacks to soda straws, we know each inside and out.  I see her everyday, at least once. I visit her at the gas station while I’m supposed to be at work, I seek her out in the library when she has study hall, and I wake up on weekend mornings to see her curled in the fetal position across the couch from me.  She even spends the night on school nights occasionally.  We’re glued at the hips from Friday when I get off work, until Sunday night. 

Now that I’ve made it clear that we spend a lot of time together, I’ll delve into the shock I’ve experienced throughout the past two weeks she’s been gone.  Well, I cry myself to sleep every night and I can’t eat and I tear up when I play our song every morning.  Actually, I’m just kidding.  In the time she has been away, I’ve forgotten about how it bothers me that she makes foul faces unconsciously almost all the time or that she says, “What are we going to do tonight?” when she clearly means, “Find us a party!” Honestly, I wish I could look over and see her frowning at someone she dislikes.  I miss her a lot but I firmly believe that when I get to see her next month I’ll love her more than I did the day she left.

Even chatting on the phone together has proved my point.  I chatted with her for the first time last night and I was spurting with things to tell her about what I did this weekend and who I was with.  She seemed just as interested to know about it as I was to tell it.  She asked questions longingly like, “O Jessie hung out too?” and said things like, “I miss so-and-so!” even though most of the time we were complaining about him because he teases us when we sit in my room.  One time he knocked rudely on the door, swung it open and leaned in, spouting the words, “Your friends needed cosmetic surgery.”  Surely, if absences didn’t make the heart grow fonder, she wouldn’t express yearning to see someone that is frequently aggravating her.  In addition to this, it took almost a minute to say goodbye to each other.  We had to go through a series of “I should probably go to bed…,” “I miss you,” and “Will you call me?” statements before I put the phone down.

Human absence is not the only absence missed.  People lust for all kinds of things when they have not been around them.  For example, I can remember how homesick I was when I went to visit another friend for a week in California.  She is one of the sweetest people I know, she was extremely hospitable, introduced me to her friendly companions, and scheduled activities for us to do that would be the most fun.  We went to Universal Studios, the gelato shop, to Venice Beach, and went shopping at various places.  I love engaging in those sorts of activities, but I spent much of the week consciously thinking of the days and nights before I would get home.

The whole environment in California was different.  I wanted to walk out of the door and see the dry grass turn to a deep green, I wanted to see green street signs with white lettering, I wanted to see the southwest style homes morph into colonials.  I definitely enjoyed my stay but before that vacation was over, I was ready to return home.

When home finally arrived, I experienced a sense of euphoria by just sitting on my bed and absorbing my surroundings.  My dog felt softer and her eyes appeared more endearing, it was exciting to go into the kitchen and know where everything was, even the familiar stale smell of cigarette smoke caught my fancy.  I had a refreshed attitude about life in Falls Church, my family, my friends, and my environment.  It lacked the dull repetition it possessed before I left for my trip and I was happier because of it.