I’m a wildly romantic person. I make up stories for a living so it makes some sense that my ideas of fairy tale worlds would seep into the real world. However, I can also be oddly practical. So when my husband approached me about going on a mission trip for three weeks leaving me at home with the kids I was certain it would be fine. I knew we’d all be safe, I knew I could handle the day to day grind. We have friends near by that would help out.
And it was fine for the most part…
I was shocked at how lonely I was. I mean Brian and I are extremely compatible and we really enjoy spending time together but I didn’t expect to be sobbing sad by the end of it.
In some ways it made me feel weak. But, I guess I’ve gotten used to having Brian around. To his jokes and quirks and the fact that he switches the laundry for me. I’m too cold to fall asleep alone, and with no other adult here to pull me from my made-up-worlds I got a little too writer wacky by the end. I was having full on day dreams that I met Stephen King in a hostage situation (by the way he totally loved my manuscript I just happened to have on me). Maybe that’s what “The two shall become one” means. That you’ll need each other no matter what.
All that to say I already knew how much I love my husband but I didn’t realize how much I needed him. And it’s not the worst thing in the world to realize you need your husband.
Thanks to my mom who came and stayed with me for a while and all my friends who took time out of their schedules to visit with me. I shudder to think what would have happened to me if I’d been left completely alone for three weeks. To the books I devoured and all the tissues I cried into, I salute your service.