It's our first conversation in almost two months. It's so good to hear your voice, we both say.
We catch up on our days. It's hard to think what to say sometimes because all of the day to day stuff we've put in emails. I apologize for the too harsh email I sent last week when I was upset and forgot everything I know about not sending email when I'm upset. He apologizes for his too harsh reply.
This is hard, we both admit.
We've done distance before, but this is different. It's never been this long without seeing each other for a day at least, and we've never gone more than a few days without a phone call or Skype.
Some of the wives have flown to Sydney, where the ship is in port right now, but we didn't buy me a ticket because there was no knowing whether the date would hold or whether he'd be off work. It did and he is and we both wish very much that I was there. There's another port call and we'll buy me a ticket once the dates seem more firm, but it's still weeks away.
It should be soon after that port call that he's home. Should be, but may not. I've tried to keep myself from counting down, knowing that the date I'm counting toward is just a best case scenario. I can't help it. I don't know how many days it is, but weeks remaining, yes.
I sleep ok, but I stay up too late, avoiding facing the empty bed. I tell myself I should just be happy it's not a six or twelve month deployment and that he's able to email most days and that he's not in a war zone. Then I tell myself to ease off because I'm still allowed to miss him and to be sad sometimes.
I've hesitated to write about this because I don't want to look like I'm asking for pity or for anyone to worry about me. There's no need for either. But I write about my life here and a part of my life right now is missing my husband.
I start grad school this week and should begin at least part-time work sometime in September, which will help the time go more quickly. Eventually, his return date (which let us hope very fervently will not change, at least by much) will get closer and there really will appear to be a light at the end of this tunnel. But right now, in this moment, this is hard. I'm allowed to feel that and to say it.