So I have been on hiatus for some time now for those who may have noticed. Enter my triumphant return. Ever changed by the experience.
Both my chariot and husband awaited me. We rolled away with eighteen wheels and where the road normally took my love light from me for a time, and with it my heart along side him, this time I went along for the ride. For two whole weeks I left my normalcy behind. It was like being swept into a whirlwind. Before I knew it we were leaving everything I knew behind and even states that I knew behind. Then it was just me, him, the darkness and the headlights on the ebony asphalt in front of us. My feet up on the dashboard of his truck, we had all the time in the world, or what seemed that way in our minds.
When you only have four days a month in your marriage to drink each other in, those moments become precious. You treat each day you are with each other like minute to minute, you have to make it count. Having so much time was almost dizzying, for us both. At first I don’t think either of us knew what to do with each other. We have been together now for almost a year and a half, and our one year wedding anniversary is incredibly soon as Valentine’s day sneaks up on us. We know each other so well that we can be in different parts of the country, yet we can feel the dissonance in each other. Like some strange disturbance in the force we can simply detect when the other person is suffering silently.
This leads to so many phone calls randomly, be it in the middle of the afternoon, or at three in the morning.
“I needed to hear you” or “I felt like I should call” I’ve never felt so synced with someone in my life. Our souls dance across the distance, and I feel it, no matter how far apart we are.
As the miles passed we talked. We connected with each other on a level we hadn’t always had time to. With the creeping stretch and wind of the roads and hills, the crawl of the pavement and the tick of the clock, every mile we drove we both learned a little more. Zane and I have been friends for so many years. Six to be more precise, but there’s so much that sometimes you just don’t say, and even as partners there is always room to learn more.
I shared stories from my childhood that he had never heard. He shared some with me. The miles passed. We made jokes, laughed, held hands between gear shifts up hills and around curves. I read books out loud. We sang together, loud and uninhibited in the wee hours of the morning. We talked of our aspirations for our life together, and for our son. I took in the landscape of eight beautiful states. Four of which I had never set foot in before in my life.
On top of this I gained something else. Perspective.
I gained a newfound respect for the man that I love.
I have always had the deepest and utmost admiration for Zane and what he does. The man sacrifices himself and his time to provide a life for his family. It kills him to be away. The look of pure anguish on his face when he has to leave is gut-wrenchingly brutal. I thought I knew how hard his job was. Until I watched him do it. He works so much harder than I could have ever imagined in my head or realized.
The time I spent in that place he calls home when he cannot be with us, his family, at his real home, showed me what an amazing individual I am married to. I felt like I gave him enough credit an admiration before. He will get even more now, of that there is no doubt.
The hard part comes now. Now I am home, and I have had to let go of his hand once again. This time for eight weeks, so that I may have my light back in my life for Christmas. After getting such valuable time together I got comfortable. I keep reaching for his hand, and turning to see his face. Only to be reminded that he is not here, and sadly, I cannot see him. Thank goodness for technology.
What I wouldn’t give for his breath on my cheek, or his hand brushing back my hair.
His gruff voice telling me how much he loves me in my ear as he holds me tight.
Lying next to him as we fall into a deep sleep.
Dream of me tonight my love.