Husband left me on Friday.
Sorry to be so megalodramatic. It’s just a three week business trip to Dubai, but I am surprised how aimless I feel. I got a bit soggy at the airport. If the floor hadn’t been dirty, I would have thrown my arms about Husband’s legs and begged him to stay.
If this all sounds pathetically codependent – hey, I’m not about to argue. In my defence, Husband and I have lived and worked together every day for the last six months. He comes grocery shopping with me and entices me into Mitre 10. Joint decisions include whether to put on another jumper. We schedule summit meetings on what to cook for dinner. So is it surprising that my universe features a great, big, silent Husband-shaped hole? Or that I’m a bit chilly?
I haven’t yet resorted to sniffing his clothes, but I have a fleece top on emergency standby. It harbours three weeks of Husband’s skin cells.
(On second thought I might put that in the wash.)
The only way I can fully express myself is via the medium of dance, which is what I did at Fairy Falls yesterday. I think this covers how I feel about my husband, whilst also conveying my longing, anguish and despair:-