Its Friday afternoon. You are working hard at the office. I am working hard at home. I’m actually sweating folding laundry and going up and down stairs. I have decided to take a break so I can write this. I might feel better if I write.
I miss you. I just do. I’m thankful you work hard. I wouldn’t want you to sit home and hang out with me, and not be making money, not helping people and not have a fulfilling career. I just still miss you. You’re my friend, so I miss you. And after so many days turned to years of missing you, I guess its resentment I feel a lot. I just wish you were here. I’m lonely sometimes. I’m with the kids all day, but they aren’t good company. I need real meaningful conversation, with depth and fun. The kind we used to have, before our time got filled up with responsibility and other people’s needs.
So when you get home at night and I’m not all excited to see you and happy like a puppy, wagging its tail that you’re home, its because I guess I’m protecting myself from missing you. I’ve missed you a lot the last several years. I don’t think there’s really a solution to it, we can’t stop doing responsibility and work, but I just want you to know, I’m lonely for you.