I'm lying in bed currently, smelling the pillow both Mason and I slept on. It smells like him. I'm happy that it does, yet at the same time I'm sad because I know he's not going to come upstairs anytime soon to snuggle me to sleep.
He's not at his mom's having dinner.
He's not at Alex's spending the night.
He's back in San Diego and my brain cannot believe it.
I know it'll take a few days for my mentality to let my conscious realize Mason isn't home anymore. It's always that way. Whenever Mason leaves, I have to assure myself that he is gone; that he's not coming back until after several months pass.
At least we had a delicious breakfast this morning (pancakes and bacon), and at least we visited Lincoln Park for an hour. At least we said Hello and Goodbye to Mason's mom, and at least Mason and I could say our last Goodbyes before he had to stand in line at the airport.
Tears were shed. They always are. I don't think Mason and I will ever get used to this "schedule."
Before I end it, I'll share a few pictures I took from Lincoln Park. Maybe it'll help you smile after reading such a sad post.
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