It wasn’t until today, when a co-worker asked me how long it had been since I had last seen my husband, that I realized how long it had actually been. With the transition between cities and timing with my new job, it just ended up that we’ve had to spend the last month apart. Even though this was the longest we’ve been apart since we were married, we’ve done plenty of long-distance stints more significant than this before. But this time seemed a bit different.
This time I went on with life as best I could, filling my schedule with projects and events and just generally keeping busy. Of course there was still that nagging feeling that life wasn’t quite right and something was missing, but I focused on passing the time. Previous experiences, when our relationship was young, distance was agonizing and lonely and sometimes made me question how I would be able to make it until we were together again. The time always passed, but as slow as molasses.
I don’t know that there is a right or wrong way to “miss” someone, but I am happy with where we are now. Confident in each other to know that we will make it through and sure of the fact that life will be better when we’re together.