his itinerary calls for a another week away from me.
but that doesn’t stop me from window pane wishes for trips cut short or a surprise visit home.
even after his bags are long packed, and his plane is taxi-ing away from the gate, i still check our bedroom in hopes he still might be there sleeping.
for the most part i’m an unbroken, effectually supportive wife; confetti and sparkles peppered into every phone conversation and text.
yet, there are still some days where my quivering chin consumes my body like a tourette, and i must give in to a good solid cry.
i like that man a very good deal, and i miss him harsh when he goes away.