A short letter to my husband

It’s a strange thing when you have been with someone for seven years, living, growing, changing, entangling yourselves in each other to suddenly be without them. We talk every day but suddenly there is a space between us that has never really been there before. With that space comes appreciation. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder but my heart was already pretty fond. Absence has simply made me feel the depth of our bond. There are many things I miss of course, snuggling up to you on cold winter mornings, helping each other cook, the stupid way we insult each other. Some other stuff I probably shouldn’t talk about on a public forum. Most of all though, I just miss having you near me. It’s an ache but it’s a good ache, kind of like when you warm up numb feet in a hot shower and the feeling comes back in a hot, prickly, painful, flood. It’s a reminder that everything still works.

I miss you but I’m happy for you. I’m happy that you are getting to live out your dreams and become the person that you want to be. Ours isn’t the kind of love that is strained by distance. It doesn’t stretch thin, becoming more and more fragile. It expands to fill the space between us. I feel enveloped in it always.

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