This morning when G and I were getting ready, this convo ensued:
G: I'll miss you.
Me: I'll miss you, too.
G: The difference between me and you, though, is that I'll miss you all weekend and you'll only miss me until your plane lands in California. Then you'll be like, don't call me I have a wine glass in each hand.
Sometimes it's like he's in my head.
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