I dropped my sweet husband off at the airport last night to fly to NYC. I watched him as he walked through the doors to see if he would look back, even though he never does. I've grown accustomed to it by now. He's always been so much better at saying goodbyes than I am. When we were dating I would cling to him at the end of the night while standing outside my car, never wanting to say goodnight. He would become agitated by it some nights, being as "no nonsense" as he is, but he's grown accustomed to my ways just as I've grown accustomed to his.
He and I have been married for three Valentine's Day and thus far haven't spent any of them together -- he's been in NYC each year for work. He does bring me back nice gifts from the Big Apple so I supposed I'm fine with it, although I do hate being apart from him. I'm glad that I won't be home alone this year. Nicholas, my older brother, is getting married this Saturday in the Mount Timpanogas temple, so I'll be in Utah with my family until Tuesday which leaves me with only one night by myself until Nate arrives home on Wednesday.
Even still, I wish he could be with me. Family time isn't the same without him -- he's become the most important part of my family. I will be counting the hours 'til we are reunited.