in the end, the holding stopped, eventually the phone calls and finally the texts. it is all gone and i long for it in ways i never thought possible. sometimes i dream about him, at least i think it's him, but i can't see his face. he scoops me up and tells me that he's so sorry it took so long. he's been taking care of things so he could find me.
i wake up abruptly from these dreams because they feel so real, i swear i can feel his arms. my heart flutters and my hands are reaching for his at my chest. there's no one there. it's always at 4am and i have to weep so quietly i nearly choke so that i don't wake any of the children up.
waiting for the coffee to brew, i recite the words i would say to him, over and over in my head. they have to be perfect, everything does. how i long to take care of him, from making sure that he has fresh sheets to lay in with me, a hot breakfast before he leaves, a lunch packed. dinner on the table when he gets home. a shoulder and back rub before bed.
i hope that I'll find you again someday. at the right time and before it's too late.