Hate Missing You

Things have quiet down here a bit. I got back to Harare the day before yesterday and after dinner with the parents it was good to go back home. Just to lie in the arms of the one I love.

Even though I was more comfortable than ever, I found it hard to sleep. Like a part of me was so afraid that if I fell asleep, I might wake up without him next to me. He actually woke up with my hand-print on his wrist because I didn’t let go all night. I love him and the thought – just a fleeting thought- of not waking up next to him in 20years paralyzes me.

It’s like I just want to hold onto him whenever he is nearby and when he leaves, even just to go to work, I hate it. I hate not being able to reach-out and hold him. I hate having to wait for the next time I see him. I hate missing him but I absolutely love loving him!

I’m finding it hard to focus on what I want to write or even figure out if I had a point behind this thought. I keep going back to him and how his hair flips in 20 different directions at the same time for an effortlessly perfect look. My mind won’t let me forget that knows my thoughts almost as well as I do and logic is just no match for our emotions. I try to pretend that I can get around it but it keeps coming back to the same thing: I love everything about him.

In hindsight it probably wasn’t the best choice to watch The Timetraveler’s Wife or well at least I shouldn’t have watched it without him here. It’s a nice movie, not my favourite but it’s just good enough to make me wonder how long we have together and which challenges we’ll face in our future…

I always believe that time is relative and since I’m going to live to be 104, it’s not all that relative to me. I just wish the people in my life would live that long too, and then we’d have all the time in the world to make all the mistakes we possibly could and still have enough time left to fix them. Sadly, I doubt we’ll all get that old. Maybe that’s a good thing: maybe this unwritten deadline is the thing that pushes us to be everything we can be and not allow ourselves to slip into a state of comfort that eventually translates into procrastination and a lack of direction.

Maybe we have to make everyday count in order for us to truly be alive, right? Maybe the little things we take for granted everyday is exactly what gets us through those moments alone. Maybe we should treat every moment we spend together like we haven’t seen each other in ages, maybe then we won’t feel so lonely when we’re alone?

Or maybe I just miss him way to much… but I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. I wouldn’t trade this painful missing-ness because I know the joy of togetherness.

Till later,

AM

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