She had meant for it to come out as a fact, immovable and unwavering.
But when she looked into his eyes and said
"We will see each other in three months," it sounded as unmeant questions do; lacking and without command of reality.
Had she looked into his eyes, truly?  Holding him there so that there was no way to deny her? And the truth that his absence hurt her? Had he said anything in return? Anything to placate?
She can't remember. Recalling their awkward moments was like trying to find something nice to say when someone complimented you and feeling obligated to reciprocate. Attempting to find anything genuine to give back for their kindness. It was difficult, unnerving and slightly comforting all at once. To find that she was comforted by her lack of remembrance was nigh infuriating. All thoughts that lead to him warmed and soothed her, even those that made her miserable. Because they were the pieces that she had of him, and so- they were precious.