I am 111 miles away from you right now. I know it’s not that far. I know a lot of other people have dealt with a lot worse things and have been just fine. But I am 111 miles away from where I ought to be. 111 miles from being wrapped in your arms. I’m cold and a little lonely. I’m happy to see your name light up my phone, but I’d give anything to instead be shining my phone in your face when we’re on the lake and you drop something important right into the water. I miss the feeling of your hand in mine, laughing our asses off while you tested out every single speaker in the electronics section and almost made us late for the movie. 111 miles away from the messy methods we adopted to share peanut butter s’mores. And I’m 111 miles away from your hugs and kisses and teasing. I’m 111 miles away from the only person who really feels like home. I know it’s not that far, and I know it’s only temporary, but I wake up every day wishing you were beside me. 111 miles, and each one is an enemy.