I'm writing again.

I don't think you guys have met Amanda yet. I'm going to be spending some quality time with her, so I'll introduce you...

MONDAY, MARCH 8
Our alarm goes off at two. It’s an early flight. Thankfully, all the equipment has been shipped already, so we only have to worry about getting Jeff to the airport on time. This is why the alarm is set for two, so I can wake Jeff up, take my shower, come back and give him a kiss and another reminder, get dressed, give him a little shake, go make coffee, come back and yell, “Okay! Enough of this! Get out of bed!” to which he will moan, “Fine Mom,” and get up.
And this is very similar to how things actually occur, except that instead of yelling, because I’m feeling sad, I sit down on the bed next to him and run my hand down his naked body. Jeff’s eyes open.
“Do we have time?”
I check the clock. “Quickly,” I reply, and climb into bed beside him.
I have never known anyone with such an insatiable appetite for sex. I’m pretty slutty, as far as girls go, but it took me a good while to be able to keep up with Jeff. I suspect it’s similar to any other kind of training. Like eating competitively. Or running marathons. I have become a machine capable of achieving multiple orgasms and surviving on limited nighttime sleep and catnaps. I wonder now, if I will atrophy with him being gone.
We are not quick. I don’t think either of us can be. I take the time to run my hands over him, to etch in my mind the feeling of his body and how it feels against mine. Jeff is on top of me, and I have my legs wrapped around him. He props himself up on his elbows so he can hold my face, and kisses me continuously. It’s love we are making, and it feels both tender and tragic. Like goodbye. Which it is, but not forever, I remind myself.