Friday, October 31, 2014

I missed my wife

When my hubby and I were on the subway last week in NYC, he just looked at me and said, "I missed my wife."

People on the train next to us probably thought it was him relaying that he missed seeing me while we were apart from one another. And he did, he always does. But it was so much more than that.

When I'm in New York (or Denver, or Los Angeles, or Nashville, or Las Vegas or any city other than home), I smile and laugh - sometimes for no reason whatsoever other than the feeling of being totally carefree for those few days I'm away.

This is the first time that we've traveled together, so he hadn't witnessed it before now. He never got to see the glint return to its familiar spot in my eyes. He hadn't heard the giddiness in my laughter. The deeper breaths I take also went unnoticed.

But this time, he saw. He heard. He noticed.

And if for only those five days together, he got to see his wife again. We're both hoping she sticks around.

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