For a couple of years, Whitman and I were in a situation that kept us apart. Sometimes it was weeks at a time. Sometimes it was a month or more. Days, weeks, no matter how long, it was heartbreaking. Every time we were together, there was an end. He left. I waited to see him again. It hurt. It felt like an eternity.
Now we live together, and our time apart is less. Even though he travels sometimes for work, I always know when he’ll be back. There’s no question of “When will I see you again?”
On top of that, we have full-immersion time together every weekend.
Pure bliss.
This is good. Sometimes we do nothing. Sometimes we do everything.
Then Monday comes. We’re apart again. I hate it. It’s like my heart is being ripped out because I have to spend nine hours away from my love. Nine hours??? That’s all??? It feels like an eternity all over again every week.
Take heart my love, that though we may be apart tonight (a Tuesday no less), my heart is with you always. And yes, we have way more days together, than apart. That’s invaluable. Every day, for all our days, and then some.