It gets lonely.
There are some mornings where instead of waking up to my husband’s face, I wake up to an email from him, or at least with the hope that he wrote one. I can’t complain. This is the life that I have accepted, so there’s no sense in crying over sleeping in a bed all by myself. All I can do is dream of the day that he comes back, because all he can do from this point on is come back. He already left, it might not be anytime soon that he comes back, but instead of dreading a “farewell” I can only anticipate a “welcome home”.
I can’t wait for his phone call tomorrow :)
