Clutching the dirty shirt you left behind, I breathe in your scent, pressing it to my face. I can never get enough of you, much like an addict who is dying for their fix.

The ache of your absence pierces my heart, and I fight back the tears that are welling up as I take your shirt to my bedroom and place it next to my pillow so that I can fall asleep with your scent lingering beside me.

When I close my eyes at night, the familiar smell will comfort me, as if it were a lifeline connecting me to you in this vast sea of loneliness, assuring me that your presence is still with me in some small way even though you are miles away.

I pick up my phone and type: Let me know when you arrive. I miss you so much. The house feels so empty without you.

But I pause and delete it. You left just an hour ago, and I'm worried you'll think I'm being overly dramatic. But I just want you to know that I'm always thinking of you. You are the light that brightens my days and fills my nights with comforting warmth. Your absence reminds me of how much you mean to me, and it only makes me look forward to your return even more. Every minute without you reminds me of how lucky I am to have you.

Not wanting to seem clingy or insecure, I decide to send a simple message instead: Safe flight.

Minutes pass without a reply. You haven't even read my message yet. I try to keep myself busy and not obsess about it, but nothing seems to work. Your silence only adds to my longing for you, for any small sign of connection—even if it's just a quick text—just to feel your presence.

I resort to the only thing I know will bring me some relief—masturbation.

I log into my Lush account and browse erotic stories in the hopes of finding something that will inspire and excite me. Losing myself in detailed narratives of lust and desire isn't enough for me, so I turn to porn for the visual stimulation. The graphic scenes manage to divert my attention, allowing me to release some of the tension.

The fleeting euphoria of climax quickly fades, and the yearning for you comes rushing back. Nothing compares to the profound intimacy I have with you. While erotica and adult films provide a temporary distraction, they only highlight what I truly miss: the touch, passion, and emotional bond that is uniquely ours. These substitutes are just that, and they only serve to exacerbate my longing for the genuine connection we share. I find myself seeking release over and over again, attempting to alleviate the nagging ache of missing you.

Then, finally, your response comes: I've arrived. I can finally breathe a sigh of relief.

I understand that you're surrounded by people and responsibilities that demand your attention. With love and some difficulty, I've learned to share you with the world, just as you've generously done for me. You've given me so much freedom with such selflessness, and in return, I want to offer you the same.

I simply hope that when the time allows, you'll return to me, because I need you too. You see, I'm completely obsessed with you, addicted to the way you bring me to life. Your very presence fills an emptiness within me, igniting a passion unrivaled by anything else I've experienced. Nothing compares to the rush you give me.

These days of waiting for your return will be nothing short of agony. The moment you walk back through that door, I'll be ready to leap into your arms, craving the intense high you bring. As soon as I get my dose of you, all the pain and longing will melt away, and I'll be whole again.