I am going to fill the void in my heart; I am going to get her back.

            I stand in front of my closet trying to pack.  The butterflies in my stomach are out of control and my hands are shaking with anticipation.  I reprimand myself for being so nervous and try taking a deep breath.  Nope.  That doesn’t work.  I think I’m going to be sick.  I head for the bathroom to get a glass of water.  I fumble with the cup, then the faucet, my jittery hands making even this small task nearly impossible.  I manage to get some water down as I catch my reflection in the mirror.  I stare at myself in disbelief.  I’m a mess.  I am not even on the same side of the country as Ashley and I can not pull myself together.  How am I going to face her?  I turn and melt to the floor bracing myself against the cabinet below my sink.  I bury my face in my hands.  This is happening too fast.  I sit there for sometime.  I finally gain the composure necessary to stand.  Baby steps.  I breathe again and make it to the bedroom. 

            The next couple hours are a blur.

I sit here in the airport wondering if I actually packed anything.  I have a suitcase and I know it is on the heavier side, but it can have a bowling ball and a football jersey in it for all I know.  I guess I will deal with that when I get there.  I pick up my cell phone to I call another one of the people I have distanced myself from over the years.

            “Hello?”

            “Hey dad.”

            “Spencer?!  It’s so good to here from you!”  Since leaving California, I haven’t shut my dad out all together, but chatting with him hasn’t been high on my priority list.  This has been a gift usually attached to special occasions.  While Ashley and I were together, we would fly out to California to check in twice a year.  Since then I have gone three times; the last time over two years ago, while on a business trip.