I know we'll find each other again. We always do. I can already picture our glorious reunion. I'll be base tanned and wearing strappy sandals as I wait in the airport headed to the Virgin Islands. I'll have my Bad Bitch Posse (*cough* E & Kay *cough*) in toe and you? You will be there at some trashy airport Chili's beckoning me across the terminal, whispering sweet nothings as I request your cold, refreshing touch from an airport bartender who undoubtedly hates his life. Then upon first sip, I will be wasted.