My husband comes home tomorrow. He retired this spring and I've grown used to his presence. His two week absence nibbled at the corners of my mind, taking bits of pleasure from the days of doing exactly what I wanted, when I wanted. Funny, how I see this now, after years of his being gone for work, and me, always full of independence, knowing I could survive without him, filling my days and nights with me things.
These resent months of having him here, every day, learning bits about him that forty years hadn't revealed, made me realize I'm not quite as independent as I thought. Sure, I could, would survive if he were gone, but... My husband comes home tomorrow and I can't sleep tonight because I am happy he will be here, robbing me of time alone.
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