For eight years I have always had the same scenario: the night before, I cannot eat, I cannot think straight, I cannot sleep, and I have butterflies in my tummy.
It used to happen when I drove 16 hours nonstop from my dorm room to his at Chase Hall.
It used to happen when I packed up my Federal Natural Resource Law books and study guides to read between quarters at the academy football game.
It used to happen when I cleaned our little apartment in Portsmouth, NH, to greet him after a grueling four month southern patrol.
It used to happen when I flew SWA from Baltimore to New England on those sporadic weekend visits during his geo-bach.
It used to happen when I walked across the street and went home to him everynight for our two year stint in DC.
And it happened last night...