People wonder how my husband and I can go months at a time without seeing each other. Many couples, military and civilian, choose to live apart for many reasons. Our biggest reasons were our three children, ages 9, 6, and 3. With the older two in school, we wanted them to have stability and not have to move every couple of years. Ninety nine percent of the time, we know in our hearts we made the right choice, even if it meant living a whole country away from each other.
The remaining one percent is comprised of random moments during the day such as this one. I really miss my husband right now.
It’s almost midnight. The children have been sleeping for over three hours. Nothing is on TV. I’ve read two novels this week so I’m taking a day or so before I dive into the next one, albeit a racy vampire porn– my new favorite genre.
I have no desire to turn off all the lights downstairs, climb the sixteen steps to our room, and lay in a cold queen size bed all by myself.
I don’t even have a side anymore. Since we
have been dating have been married, I’ve always slept on the right side. I’ve noticed in the past three months since my husband has moved back to Virginia, I’ve scooted to the left a little every night as if my subconscious is still searching for someone to cuddle with. Last night I found myself falling asleep on the left side.
We’ve only got about a month until he comes back for a two week visit. The kids are excited, especially the youngest since she’ll turn four just before he gets home. She just can’t seem to make up her mind over what kind of birthday cake Daddy should make for her: Rapunzel or Curious George?
It’s crummy feeling to realize that I didn’t even get a chance to talk to him all day. I don’t get angry when this happens. Bummed, yes. But not angry. Since he’s been back at work and is not allowed to deploy because of his injuries, he spends his mornings in gruelling physical therapy and the rest of his day at his new desk job. And those of you whose husbands abhor desk jobs, you can imagine how much he hates his newfound responsibilities. I completely understand how physically and emotionally exhausted he is by the end of the day.
I miss his silly jokes about how he broke down and went to Taco Bell for lunch. I miss his updates on how he’s feeling today and how much physical therapy hurt. I even miss his complaints about a former roommate coming over to finish the rest of the huge roast he made over the weekend.
Worst of all, no “I love you” to get you through until tomorrow.
That one percent sucks big time.