The bed feels wrong without you in it. I put a bunch of things in it to help. Clutter, basically. Over on your side. So that there’s some resistance when I try to move the covers. But it isn’t the same.
It took me about a week to get used to the way that this house sounds without you in it. I never realized before that you had your own music. Sounds that you make just by being there. Even if you’re not talking. The sound of your breath, your footsteps as you move throughout the house.
I miss the sound of your laughter of course. But honestly, I even miss hearing you blow your damn nose.
I wasn’t expecting this. To miss something like that. We’ve been apart in the past, sometimes for weeks for your work trips. But it’s different this time.
I had an ex tell me one time that the thing he loved most was simply having me there. Having me in the same room with him. And at the time I was unimpressed by that. Thought that sounded ridiculous, to be valued basically for existing.
But now I get it. I know what he was trying to tell me then. I get it now that you’re gone, your stuff is gone, and you’re not coming back.
I understand now that when you really love someone, when you really connect with someone, they contribute to your life just by being there. Without even really doing or saying anything, they can have a huge presence. One that you’ll miss more and differently than you expected when they’re no longer around.
When you don’t see their shampoo in the shower, their dishes in the sink, their laundry in the basket.
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My new book is out!
Dealing with Difficult Metamours, the first book devoted solely to metamour relationships, full of strategies to help you get along better with your partners’ other partner(s).