I miss him. Man, do I miss him.
No, this isn’t a post about my ex husband. It’s been a long time since I’ve missed him. I feel like I spent a good amount of time in my marriage missing him.
No, this is about the one who got away.
I wake up and he’s one of the first things I think about. I go to sleep and I secretly wish that tomorrow will be the day he comes back.
I miss him.
I miss the conversations. The excitement of a new relationship. The surprises. I miss wanting someone again.
I miss being wanted.
I know some of you will not understand. That’s okay. I’m not sure I get it most days, but I am lonlier now than I was when my husband left.
I always kind of knew he wanted to leave. I certainly knew he didn’t love me anymore. We just existed. And I’ve spent a long time grieving that, but this is not about him.
I’ve tried to use this time to grow. To learn about who I am. What I want. What I don’t. It’s been a long time since I’ve lived for myself, but I miss him.
I miss having someone to talk to. Someone to share things with.
I’m in my own place now. For those of you who follow me on Instagram you probably knew that already, but I’m here. I’m settling in to my new life. My new season.
I remember talking to him about getting my own place. I remember him telling me it would happen. He even would mention how I should consider living closer to him. I did. I thought about it.
I imagined inviting him over for dinner on the weekends. I imagined him picking me up to go out. I imagined texting him when the kids went to bed to tell him about my day and ask about his.
I think about his daughter, a lot. I wonder how she’s doing. If she’s getting better. If you actually get better. I think about her always complimenting my ‘shiny teeth’.
I think about if we’ll ever actually see each other again. I pray often that we will.
I refuse to give up. I think that would hurt too much. And truthfully, I can’t hurt anymore.
But I miss him.
And in the off chance that you’re reading this, I miss you. I wish I didn’t. I try not to. I try to distract myself. I try to focus on me, but you’re always on my mind. You’re always what I compare the rest to, the reason they always fall short.
I’m lonely without you. I can’t find enough distractions. I try to keep myself busy, but there’s always something reminding me of you. Of us.
Sometimes I feel crazy. Like how in the world could I feel this way about someone? It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way.
Other times I wonder if I should reach out to you. To let you know I’ve been missing you. But I chicken out. Every single time.
And I probably always will.
So today is no different. I’ll do my best to find my next distraction and I’ll secretly pray it will be my last one.
Because if you don’t know, I miss you.