I lie in bed at night talking to my husband, hoping that he hears me. It’s been a while since I’ve actually had a conversation with him. I wish he would indulge me in an answer instead of silence. I can’t handle the silence.
I lie in bed waiting for the warmth of a hug. One of those all enveloping hugs that promise eternal safety and tropical sunsets with cocktails. I look over my shoulder and soft toys stare blankly back at me. Even though they have individual names, it does not make them human or capable of an embrace.
I wake up in the morning with only half a bed to make. The other half goes unused. A void space. Every day I open my eyes to see that space. Empty.
I suppress memories of our last moments together. It’s too hard. The Grim Reaper’s firm grip tightly bound.
I witnessed a couple in a one-sided argument over something trivial in the fresh produce department at the supermarket recently. I wanted to tell her not to worry about it, since she was lucky enough to have her partner pushing the trolley. But it wasn’t my place to say.
If you are fortunate enough to be walking hand-in-hand with a significant other, take the time to appreciate. Love is an amazing gift.