Weekends are the worst. He works all weekend so there's no chance to really talk, but he makes sure to call me in between sets. His band mates laugh and blow kisses in the background, demanding to talk with me too. They're wonderful friends. I can't live without them really. The music starts up in the background, and the bar night manager call them all away.
His last three rushed words mean half the world. It's almost not so bad to plan the day without him.
Window-shopping can be a spirit lifter just by itself. I am female after all. When the shops remind me of the only one I cannot find here, I glance into a passing window and see him smile back at me. When my new friends wander ahead, and I'm left alone to stroll alone, we clasp hands and skip to catch up.
I've gotten used to people walking through him.