Right now, I am in pain. Right in the center of my chest, a dull ache is steadily growing. I�d like to blame it on the fast food I had a while ago, heartburn or some such, but I know that is not the case. Each stroke on this keyboard makes this hole in my heart grow a little more. It is a hole that can only be filled by being with the woman I love, and by some cruel twist of fate, that is a place I can�t be.

I�ve fallen in love with a beautiful woman. I�ve fallen in love with a smart woman. I�ve fallen in love with a caring woman. I�ve fallen in love with a perfect woman. No, not A perfect woman, THE perfect woman, and what�s even better, she loves me. I want her in my arms, I want to feel her hands running through my hair, I want to press my lips against hers. I could spend hours just holding her, and they would be the most peaceful hours of my life. Right now, that can only happen in dreams and memories, and there are far too few memories.

Now there�s a good chance I�m sounding a little too melodramatic. After all, it�s not like I�ll never see her again. In fact I won�t even go that long without seeing her. I�m away for a little over 4 months (one college semester) and I can probably get home to see her a few times during that span. However, when you can�t be with the person you love, especially after just falling in love with them, 4 months seems an eternity. Hell, even a few weeks, sometimes just days, can drag on endlessly.

I check my watch more frequently now, hoping that the time has passed just a little faster than it would seem. In fact, it only works in reverse, each time my hopes are dashed as those past few moments that have felt like a lifetime have only translated to mere minutes subtracted from the time until I get to hold her again. No matter what I am doing during my waking hours, my thoughts invariably turn to her. I think it goes without saying at this point that she is always there in my dreams.

I�m not sure what writing these words will accomplish. It�s not something one can understand without experiencing it, and even if one has been through it, these feeble words on a page, or in this case a computer screen, cannot possibly approach the feelings that just a simple memory can evoke. Perhaps this is just another method of expressing my love, and if that be the case then I can think of no other way to end it than this:

To you, the woman of my dreams, who I was lucky enough to meet in reality:

I love you.