Joe has this one book where he likes to flip through and point out all the butterflies, BAH!, then flip to the front and do it all over again, which is one of the many things I’ve been watching him do over Facetime for the last two weeks, during the Great Separation. Conveniently this morning, waiting to board my flight home to him, I have Butterflies in my stomach like my play is about to open, like I’m about to meet a famous person or a boy I think I love but I’ve never met. I’m imagining all of the different things he might do when I walk in the door. I have my money on huh! it’s you! and then a big grin, and a squeeze, then a return to whatever it was that he was doing. But maybe he’ll point at me, BAH! And he’ll be right.

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