When a girl says she misses someone, what does she mean? Enjoy.
Dear Western, how are you? What are you doing now? Where are you? Are you truly happy when you say you’re fine? Or is there a deep sadness, a worry within that the phone calls, skype calls and chats don’t show me?
I know your heart is here, but I also want to know, every second, the many places your mind travels to. I wonder so much about you. I wonder if a little piece of you changes each time you are away on the high seas in your drillship. Have the tides been still or tumultuous?
You know, I went to the clinic today for another scan and left there in tears. Not because our baby is now forming beautifully (like a huge bean seed) but because I got there late and one of the other women said it was because I have no husband. Why would anyone say such a thing? Well it’s true they’ve never seen me with you. How could they see you, when you’re on an oil rig on the other side of the world?
This was not the plan, Western. Deviations are inevitable but this, this is an entire revision. You promised to be here with me to help me through the tight corners on this road called pregnancy. But you weren’t even here when I broke the news that we were expecting our first child. By the time you returned, the light of excitement in your eyes had been missed forever.
That one time you came home I was so complete. I felt like a complete woman. All my years on earth and my struggles in life suddenly seemed worth it. I wished I could step back out of the picture as soon as possible so you could be joyfully united with the young life growing within me. I was the vessel bringing our bundle of joy into the world. I watched you listen for his heartbeat and tell me it was strong and impatient, just like mine. How would I ever have heard it myself but for you? I miss you tickling my tummy, ignoring my breathless pleas for respite. I can’t fight back when you do that. I can’t fight you back even when I want to. I can’t kick and scream when you have to leave. I know it’s for our future and there’s no other option for now, but still, it hurts. Badly. I miss you whether it’s right or wrong.
I miss us following each other from room to room and to the kitchen to serve extra food while we are eating. I miss eating with you while watching the shows you hate on TV. I miss Saturday mornings too, having tete-a-tetes, talking about the past and the future and meaningless things, in those fleeting moments that mean everything to me. I miss opening my eyes to catch you watching me and my distended tummy while I sleep. I miss rejecting the pillow in favour of your chest, and the blanket in favour of your body warmth.
How I miss you Western! Come home, my dear one, and be awake the eight or so times I go to pee during the night. “Do you ever sleep?” I would always ask. “You sleep enough for the three of us”, you would reply. I so love how you love me. I love you even more, if that were possible. I almost resent your love because it takes me so high while I have you, only to drop me so low when I lose you again. Should I hate that I love you? I simply can’t bring myself to.
I miss our stare that stamps “mine” on us both and our silence that speaks volumes. I love how you hold my hand at the movies and even here at home when there’s nobody to see us; it feels like we keep linking our souls all over again. Didn’t I almost have it all? Laughter I could touch, words I could see, contentment that lingered aimlessly, days that passed swiftly. And your eyes, your mischievous eyes… Just come home Western. Come home and flinch again as I step on the rug carelessly with my shoes; laugh at me as I struggle to sweep it clean.
I want the sarcastic look on your face when I boast of how great my mushed up dessert is. I want the sweet smile that turns up your lips when you taste it. I miss dressing up and getting all made up for work only to have my lip gloss off in minutes. When you’re not here, I don’t bother using any. It’s a waste of money and waste of emotions. You really can’t kiss me through the phone. I hate that bb ‘kiss’ smiley. I hate when you send it to me. It’s a mockery of what we share when our lips collide. Let’s not go there. Let’s not talk about the stuff that goes down after the kiss behind closed doors and windows.
You don’t let me win when we play FIFA Manager and I think that’s crap. But then, you wish you could beat me at Scrabble too. Like I’m used to saying, “It’s an ordained balance”. And like you always say, “Maybe we must learn to earn our successes”.
I always thought it cheesy to say, “I just want to hear your voice” but many times you’re not here, I miss the sound of it; that’s why I call so often. To connect the resonance in my mind’s ears with the one that sings that Luther Vandross’ “Here and Now” so sonorously. I never knew you could sing so well till we got married. You spin my momentary gloom so effortlessly into a glowing streak of sunlight by just putting your arms around me. Gosh! Time seems so slow when you’re not here.
That your smile, your knowing smile, I miss it. I hate that bb ‘big-smile’ smiley. I hate when you send it to me. It’s so empty and wordless. Bring me your beautiful and wise smile and the sexy way you look at me when I say you spent too short time bathing again, how you say I should come teach you how to do it right.
There’d never be enough words to say how so much I love you. And there’d never be enough kindness in this chilly night, to show you how so much I miss you.
I do hope though, that knowing sometimes we have to pass up orange juice if we want the whole tree is enough to get me through tonight and the coming week. And I do pray that every second apart, every set back, every offshore trip, whether unsolicited or necessitated turns up with a gold lace of perfection to make the pages of our lives soaked in beauty.