Absence is an interesting thing…you know you’ve completely adjusted to the bed-sharing aspect of married life when you wake up in the morning to find that the other side of the bed is totally undisturbed, right down to the throw pillow. The same thing happened while I was in Tennessee. I somehow assumed that I’d revert to my middle of the bed, occupying every square inch of the matress, head nestled between two pillows ways…but apparently not. Apparently I’ve become so conditioned to just sleeping on one side of the bed. Apparently my leg only wanders to the other side when there’s a warm body there, and the dog doesn’t count. Apparently I only hog the covers when there’s someone to be taking them from. It’s just not the same when you’re in bed alone.
Typically, when I’ve been apart from my husband, it’s been me who’s out of town. When I’m in another zip code, busy visiting friends and family or traveling for business, I’m not really alone, existing in the day-to-day grind of normal life. During those times, I seem to cope with the absence of my other half rather well…missing him but not missing him…In my element because I have many people to interact with. But back here at home, sans husband until Friday, I feel very alone. The house is empty. There’s no one to cook for, which causes me to revert to my singleton ways of eating, soup and sandwiches if I decide to eat dinner at all. Most of the recipes I consider making are based on more than one serving and I’ve never been a big fan of leftovers…I don’t think the dog quite appreciates my company in the same manner, although that doesn’t stop me from carrying on a one sided conversation with my canine companion.
I’m not good at this anymore. I’ve forgotten how to exist alone, really. It’s not that I lack the ability to function as an individual. Far from it. I think I just realized in the last 2 days how much I enjoy existing as part of a unit…I feel kind of lopsided and off balance without my other half and I can’t wait for him to get home on Friday.