T_T

Clayton goes home tomorrow...well, today, technically. He heads out on the greyhound at 6:20 am, which is a whopping forty minutes before I get off work. So I had to say goodbye at 10pm, and being my typical self, cried like an idiot. I still want to cry, actually. It helps, not thinking of it, but I'm probably not going to see him again until some time in the summer, and if not then, then some time when I'm in Wales he might appear.

When I was on my way out here, and Jon brought everyone to say goodbye to me at the trainstation, I got all weepy too. Actually, the first day and a half on the train I had to keep kleenex on hand because I was liable to burst into tears at the drop of a hat, or a stray thought, or a bit of a song from my phone. There's something about not knowing when you're going to see someone you care for again that lends a sense of desperation to a leavetaking.

It's going to be so much worse when Bean goes.