crave


Silhouette is painted on the wall
How many times can I say that I miss you
And everybody wants to know what's wrong
It's just the 700 mile situation

Why don't you tell me what you're scared of
You make me breathe so easy
And I'm a mess with reminders of you
I often wonder where you are sometimes
I close my eyes and picture it for a while
I rise, awake to find myself without you

~Res from "700 Mile Situation"

last night
my beloved gave himself
to me arms open and smiling

I arrived home, checked the mail box, and there he was, wrapped in 5 envelopes, waiting to be held. this time i was patient. i didn't devour him on the spot. i waited. the little one and i went inside, i fed him, we played, he got fussy and finally fell asleep. once i put him down for the night, i turned out all of the lights, except a dim lamp in the corner of the bedroom, and stretched across my bed.

i always organize the letters first. i open them, check the dates and arranged them in chronological order. i do this because i love watching him move. i always make sure to put the dates of my letters on the outside of the envelope, because he likes to do the same. after i arranged the letters, i began reading and crying and laughing along side my beloved. slipping from easy chatter concerning old memories & our son's latest developments, to heavy conversation about God and books and life after he comes home. sometimes i talk back to the letters, as if he can hear me. maybe he can; someplace deep within, my voice resonating in his heart and mind, causing a smile to escape. or even a laugh(?).

i devour his words, quickly. then i read them again and again enjoying the crumbs he left behind.

sometimes i cry when i'm done. not only because his letters were so hopeful and sweet and sometimes sad, but because they are over. and i am brought back to the realization that he is not sitting beside me. holding my hand or stoking my head ever so gently.

i miss my beloved so much.

there are not enough ways or words to say this. i carry him always, just beneath my blouse, in my pocket, over my heart.

he is always there smiling.
asking me,
"wha gwan baby"?