He would not stay for me, and who can wonder?

  He would not stay for me to stand and gaze.

I shook his hand, and tore my heart in sunder,

  And went with half my life about my ways.

A.E. Houseman

I miss him. I really do miss him. It’s all changed, since he died, and came back, and left again, with hardly a glance at anyone. I wonder if he’s coming back. I hope he’s coming back.
 

My boss, the man for whom I make unhealthy amounts of coffee, is gone, and my world has descended into chaos.
 

My captain, the man I love, is an immortal, who can sail the seas of time, he can live anywhere and any when, and yet, for a while, he stayed for me, with me. I’ve never felt so alive. He died for me, in the end; I knew that. I could feel that, deep in my heart he wasn’t facing Abadon for the species, or the future, or for her, but to save me. He knew how much life meant to me. But now he’s gone, and without him, I feel empty, hollow. Dead. And the difference between me and him is that only one of us has the power to come back to life, no matter what. It’s not me.
 

My lover, the man I adore, needs to come back to me. I suppose, of course, that he might think that I’m not enough, that I’m just the stupid coffee boy. Somehow, though, I disagree with that, no matter what Owen says. When he shook my hand, when he pulled me towards him and kissed me, it wasn’t just a display of what we share, it was a promise; it was an affirmation of how much we love each other.
 

And then he went. And now I have to live on, in a world with a bit less magic, because it has a lot less him.

Please come back.