During the entire trip, I remember phasing in about twenty to thirty times when I swerved or something startled me back into consciousness. I'm not joking or exaggerating. I'm an idiot for almost getting myself killed.
Matt made me some soup (of course I got up later and washed the dishes) while I dozed after finally getting to make love after a month of being apart.
Things are a little different. We're not used to being around each other, so each time we visit the other, we have to get re-accustomed to actually getting to see and touch one another.
In a way, I think I'm growing up in this relationship, that I'm slowly learning the right balance between space, time, effort, and attention.
I'm very sleepy, content, and just happy I didn't run off the road.