i threw my clothes on

I don't know.

I'm going to plow through third quarter and spend spring break in California and then nine months as an exchange student in Japan. After that, second semester in Minnesota, graduation, and then I ask him what will happen between us. It's up to him.

The week before he left, I made some decisions. I decided to stop asking him tons and tons of questions. He always answers with "I don't know," anyway. I decided to help him pack. I decided that I wanted to spend every day with him until he left, talking and laughing and smiling, and that I didn't want to regret not having said or done something.

We were curled up on the floor, probably on Sunday night. The sliding door was open and I was wrapped up in a plum-colored sleeping bag and his new laptop was whirring. I watched him resting on his arm, his eyes closed, and I started crying, and he draped his arm over my shoulder. It all ran together after that. He hadn't touched me in a month, except in my car when I grabbed his arm and pulled him across the armrest and hugged him goodbye. I cried harder. He said lots of things. He said that he wants to see me before I go to Japan. I listened and I couldn't stop smiling.

He moved here two summers ago, fresh out of high school. He left behind everything for me. I want to do the same thing for him. I want to wait while he sorts things out.

Seeing his little red car stings. I picture him driving, and I think of all the times we fogged up the windows in the back seat and when that policeman drove by.