When Spousal Unit and I first started dating, we spent almost every waking moment together.
For the first several months, we at least tried to minimize the time we spent together - we'd both had our hearts broken in the past, and wanted to take it slowly. That didn't last long - it was like our hearts were opposing magnets, naturally and irresistibly attracted to each other.
By the end of the spring semester (we started dating in January, but that's another story), I had secretly fallen in love with him, and he was none the wiser when it was time to say our summer goodbyes. Due to aforementioned heartache, I refused to say the "L" word before he did. We were between "like" and "love" - kelo, as we called it.
His parents lived in Chicagoland, and mine were in the upper echelons of Wisconsin - a terribly far distance. To make matters worse, he was heading off for a few weeks of study in Guadeloupe, and I wouldn't be able to visit him for three whole weeks.
(Years later, of course, we were 1300 miles and four months apart, but it's always an intolerable distance when you've just fallen in love.)
We packed up our rooms one piece at a time, taping together boxes and fortifying our hearts against the pain of distance. When my car was packed and Spousal Unit (then Boyfriend Unit) was waiting for his dad, I ventured to his room for the last goodbye.
Boyfriend Unit and I held each other tight, and he reassured me that in three weeks, we'd be together again for a few brief days. But that was little reassurrance to me: all I could see was that we would be apart for ages, and I sobbed a big wet spot into his comforting shoulder.
At last, knowing we had to split sooner or later, I wrenched myself from his grasp and stumbled into the hallway, red-faced, teary-eyed, snot-nosed, and generally distraught. My hair fell haphazardly into my face. Hiding my eyes, I brushed past someone in the hall (who was presumably a parent) and fell out the front door, sniffling all the way to my car.
Later, I realized I'd just met Boyfriend Unit's dad.
He headed to Boyfriend Unit's room, where Boyfriend Unit asked, "Did you pass a crying girl in the hallway?"
"Yeah," said my dad-in-law to be. "She looked really upset."
"That was Allison."
"Oh. ... She looked ... nice."