Most days I get up, work at my home office in my sweats or get ready and drive to a client's office for the day, come home, eat in front of the TV and fall asleep on the couch. I wake up around 2:30 am and go upstairs to bed, where I read for a while to help me get back to sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat.
I've visited friends and gone out to eat, taken riding lessons and shopped. I would have done all of these things if D was here. But he isn't. And the house doesn't feel right. The bed doesn't feel right. I don't feel right.
Should I be embarrassed to admit this?
While I'm at home making permanent butt marks on our couch, my husband is far from home, hooking up with work colleagues, meeting online friends in person and taking martial arts classes.
I'm proud of him for taking advantage of the opportunities that have presented themselves; but I have to admit that right now I'm feeling like I need him a lot more than he needs me.