One of my favorite blogs is written by Lisa-Jo, whose heart is between two countries, and whose talent with words humbles me. Every Friday, she challenges her readers to write for five minutes flat on a subject of her choice - unedited, unfiltered, just your thoughts put down in five minutes. "Ache" is this week's theme.
My husband travels, a lot, for business. He has always travelled - it was part of the package when we met nearly 10 years ago. Sometimes he's away for a few days, this time he's away for three weeks.
I'm used to him being away, I'm comfortable in my own strength that I can cope without him. Things happen, the house is run, the boys are loved and taken care of. I can do it by myself, nomessnofuss.
But when he's away I ache at his absence. I miss the solid foundation that he is for me. I miss his smile, I miss the twinkle in his eye, I miss how he looks at me. I miss his arms around me, I miss him holding me tight to him in that last-minute morning snuggle.
I am proud of his achievements, and am proud of the reasons he gets invited away on press trips. But there's a part of me missing when he's gone - so much so that a good and perceptive friend can look at me and tell that he's away.
I know I'm stronger than that, I know I am a completely capable, strong and well sorted person. But when the love of my life is away, in another city, on another continent, for a day or a week or several, I ache for him to be back home with me, where he belongs.
1 comment:
I know that feeling if only partly. My daddy used to work 24 to 72 hr shifts as a firefighter. It's always weird when the daddy is gone.
So wonderful though that we have loving families. That's rare these days.
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