My phone rang as I waited silently in the noisy airport. I sat down sadly as I holstered my cell phone and looked up. An announcer confirmed the grim news that I had thought I would only have to hear once.

“Flight 435 from Reno will be delayed approximately one hour due to weather conditions.”

I looked eagerly at my watch. The plane was due to arrive at 6:00. I had been there since 5:00, just in case, and now it was looking like I would be waiting another hour. I could have gotten up to get some food or something, but the thoughts in my head prevented me from standing.

I was waiting for my girlfriend, Jenny. A beautiful girl to say the least, and although she was surprisingly modest about that, after six months together, the time had not slowed things down between us. We knew each other so well that turning the other on was as easy as flipping a light switch. We had been together six months and one day to be exact, she had missed our anniversary yesterday while skiing in California, something we both enjoyed over winter break, but now, spring break, the separation took the fun out of it.

The term “high school romance” had never applied to us. Within one week we knew we loved each other, even without having sex for the first month. In the last five months, we took sex to another level. It became an expression of love, and a way to being entirely connected to the other, physically, and mentally. This is something that is hard to explain, but it almost is as if I can feel her thoughts.

45 minutes later, I still could not stand. I managed to distract myself enough to stand just as I saw her. She was even more beautiful than I remembered. It had only been a week, but it felt like 4. She was wearing these goth pants we had gotten together on a random impulse buy, and because she was so innocent at heart, the contrast made her irresistible. Her hair flowed down to just below her shoulders and as she smiled at me and said my name in the high pitched squeak that she knows I love, she started running towards me.

I got up to do the same, hoping and any reminisce of arousal would not be noticeable. We met at a jog and hugged passionately. Her hair smelled very faintly of something that I couldn’t recognize, but yet I knew it all too well.