To love someone else: I’m just learning what it really means.
Day in & day out.
Separated by 1000’s of miles or by the sheets and extra covers my small little self needs to stay warm: the learning is a process. Being content – being away from each other – is harder than I ever could have expected. And that’s saying something given how much time we’ve had at a distance already.
The thunder rolls. I normally find this comforting. But not tonight. Tonight, I know that I am seeking home because I don’t feel it. This is the flip side of the double life. The ache is palpable. The rain on the tin roof soothes me.
Rain on a tin roof is one of those sensory experiences that pricks at my memory. It comforts and exhilarates in equal measure. It reminds me of my childhood. Oh, and the smell of the rain that often accompanies makes me happy. But, even this is not enough to lift the cloud that has descended. The wind has picked up outside and there is hard rain. It sounds like stinging rain. And as the sky blackens into night the sound eases up some.
I miss him with the ferocity of a tornado. I love him passionately, gently, hopefully, carefully, creatively, delightfully, softly, willingly… Though we try to talk as much as we can, nothing will ever be enough. It is hard not to feel like something is being lost in being away from each other in the early months of our marriage. It’s easy to let the seeds of bitterness germinate as we seek to navigate the complicated process of visas and permanent residency.
It is hardest in the quiet of the night. I wake up in the wee hours unable to go back to sleep missing him with every muscle, including my heart. I fill the silence anyway I can. I use up my data quota faster than I’d like, I watch and rewatch every DVD I haven’t yet packed. And I write.
I am ready to be in his arms again. Ready to make packed lunches for both of us; Ready to experiment in the kitchen; I am ready for baking. I am ready to be focused on the domestic for the both of us. I am ready to choose the paint colour for our walls and out front door, and to build storage for our garage.
I am ready for this. I am ready for peace, for harmony, for silliness, and for laughter. I am ready to plan adventures together rather than apart. I’m ready to spend more of our days waking up next to each than on the opposite side of the world. I am ready to put myself second; for being loved. I am ready for his strong assertions that my car should be the one in the garage because he wants me to be more comfortable. I am ready to be held. I am ready for being told I am beautiful.
I am ready for this.
Ready to love someone else. Not just someone else, but a certain someone.
I am ready to be renewed, restored, refreshed, and rested. I am ready for being able to rest, resist, love, care for, create, and dream with.
This post is part of my series on my oneword365 for 2014 – renew. Part of this post was also inspired by a prompt from my writing group – Story Sessions – if you’re looking for a writing group of women seeking to hone their craft and seeking to live authentically, check them out! Tell them I sent you!
Listening. Observing. Participating. Writing. Photographing. Reflecting.
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Anna Blanch Rabe is an Australian-born writer and photographer. You can follow her adventure on Not A Pedestrian Life, or Facebook. For more domestic things take a look at Quotidian Home or her previous website, Goannatree.