I miss the old weekends.

Sometimes this life I have before me seems too hard to take; it is almost like this doesn't feel like it is my life I am living. I never imagined I would be forced to be so far away from the one I love. Sometimes it just doesn't seem fair.
The computers haven't been a friend of mine lately. Nothing seems to connect and nothing seems to send whenever it does connect. I've heard his voice one time this week--which I know I should be greatful for, but it is hard to be happy about that.
It wasn't too long ago when I could talk to  my boyfriend seven times a day if we felt it was necessary. We had a schedule I had grown quite fond of: sometimes talk in the morning before he had work and I had class, usually talk during lunch, talk when he got off work, maybe once or twice after that, and one last time before bed. I miss our phone calls so much. I miss hearing about his day and all the funny stories about his friends, who have now grown to be good friends of mine. I miss venting to him about even the little things. I miss hearing his advice about all the complications school and friends and family seemed to throw at me. I miss his laugh and all the little inside jokes we would talk about.
We had it down to a near science how much we would see each other. There weren't many weekends we stayed apart. Usually when Friday around 3 o'clock rolled around, I would get a call saying he was on his way into town and we would meet and have dinner and spend as much time as possible together until Sunday night when he had to leave again. Once or twice a month I would make the journey to see him. I don't regret any weekend I spent with him. I wish I could do it all over again.
The first weekend I moved into my new apartment at school (which was the first time we had been apart from one another since we started dating) I got a call from him at 7:15 in the morning.
 "Hey baby, are you awake?" he excitedly asked. I am now..." I said as I, tired and a bit annoyed, rubbed my eyes and tried to pay attention as to why he would be calling me at this time. It wasn't like him to be up so early. "Good," he said, "then will you open your door? It is freezing out here." Confused, I asked, "Why...are you outside?"
He decided a few hours after I left that weekend he wasn't ready to say goodbye. He wanted more time together. He left at 3 in the morning on his motorcycle to drive the 4 hours to my school. I was so happy. It was one of the most romantic things I could have imagined. I couldn't believe he would spend his last night at home thinking of me and missing me so much that he would leave in the cold, early morning air, and drive all the way to see me.
I wish it was always that simple- always that easy. The drive to him wouldn't seem so far now. Maybe he wouldn't seem so out of reach. Maybe our relationship wouldn't feel so different now.
It is strange to think how quickly things can change. I got so accustomed to talking to him so much, to seeing him so often. Now everything we knew is gone. I'm happy if I get to get to talk to him a few times a week. I miss him. I miss everything about him. I want him back with me. There is nothing I can have that would replace the way he makes me feel. It is horrible to have something so wonderfully perfect for a few blissful moments, and then suddenly your world is turned upside down.
Nights are always difficult. Weekends seem so depressing. But weekend nights? They remind me how alone I feel.