Waiting at “Arrivals”. Checking each face to see if it is smiling back at me. I’m nervous, anxious even. Butterflies are spinning circles in my stomach. I kind of like this feeling, like when we first started seeing each other. No expectations, just excitement.
Lately though, things have been tough. Communication has been at an all time low. Distance is between us (2,079 miles to be exact, but who’s counting?). I haven’t felt his warm embrace or kissed his sweet lips in almost three weeks.
Contrary to my feelings, I have always seen myself as an independent kind-of-woman. The kind of woman who can hold down the fort on her own. Take care of the essentials and then some. Fix-up small things here and there. I don’t sweat it (at least not at first).
When he says, “travel,” I say, “where are you going?”
When he says, “I’ve got a few days off to explore,” I forward him some ideas.
But this past trip was different. The miles felt like heavy bricks being stacked into a wall separating our love. Quick sand has been accumulating, even on my exceptionally productive days. This slippery slope of short attention span and lack of patience is wearing me thin.
I guess I HAVE become more accustomed to a gentle kiss and a caring send off in the morning. A second pair of helping hands feeding the animals (and myself), doing fix-ups around the house.
He says, “You are strong, we can get through this together.” But what does that look like?
For now, it looks like him coming home.
As I leave to wait at “Arrivals,” I can’t help but breathe in the feeling of the moment, excitement!