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tracyjay 
2:15am, July 10, 2009
Know what I miss?
I miss the curling iron cord hanging from the sink. I miss the random under garments hanging, and dripping, from the curtain rod. I miss the makeup bottles and tubes strewn across the vanity, showing great haste. I miss the shoe with the broken heel. I miss the favorite stuffed animal from child hood that I am "forced" to share the bed with. I miss "arguing" over whether to watch figure skating, or some random fix-your-house show. I miss the faint smell of last evening's perfume on a just-abandoned pillow. I miss learning the art of simply listening, and not fixing. I miss holding hands, and hiding the fact that I'm crying over some stupid movie right along with her.
It isn't any specific her, it's the details in life that means there IS a her.
The dresses that take up too much room in the closet. No room in my sock drawer for all her hosiery. A couple's night out. A couple's night in. Knowing that, no matter what, someone does think I'm great, fantastic, dreamy and sexy. I miss knowing that my favorite sweatshirt is in the dirty clothes because she wore it to bed all last week, when I was gone, because it smelled like me. I miss the weekly visits to the local florist shop. I miss looking at mushy greeting cards, and thinking that I could come up with something, if not more, than at least as romantic.
I miss having to adjust the driver's seat in my car. Adjusting the mirrors, too. I miss the aggrevation of having to stop at the gas station on my way to work, because she "forgot" on her way home from being with the girls. I miss pushing her with my shoulder as we sat watching movies, just to make her giggle. I miss GOING to the movies.
I miss the soft sigh in the morning, as the sun comes up, and a beam gently strokes her cheek. I miss randomly saying, "I love you" for no reason at all. I miss being a we, an us, a they and a them.
I miss being a half of a whole.
I even miss the lipstick left on my t-shirt collar, when she hurridly looked for something with which to dab. I miss going to the store every week for toilet paper, and once a month for the extra details. I miss the, "Wow, what a nice guy!" looks from the women, and the, "Dude, I'm sorry!" looks from the men. I miss shoe shopping, the hours at the mall looking through endless racks of dresses until the colors bled, or my eyes did. I miss the midnight runs for Hagen-Daaz, or the favorite doughnut. I miss, "Not so much salt, it's bad for you".
I miss getting up each morning and knowing that I am, by far, the luckiest man to have ever lived.
Those are some of the things I miss, that I took for granted, and pray every minute of every day I'll have back again.
I miss the curling iron cord hanging from the sink. I miss the random under garments hanging, and dripping, from the curtain rod. I miss the makeup bottles and tubes strewn across the vanity, showing great haste. I miss the shoe with the broken heel. I miss the favorite stuffed animal from child hood that I am "forced" to share the bed with. I miss "arguing" over whether to watch figure skating, or some random fix-your-house show. I miss the faint smell of last evening's perfume on a just-abandoned pillow. I miss learning the art of simply listening, and not fixing. I miss holding hands, and hiding the fact that I'm crying over some stupid movie right along with her.
It isn't any specific her, it's the details in life that means there IS a her.
The dresses that take up too much room in the closet. No room in my sock drawer for all her hosiery. A couple's night out. A couple's night in. Knowing that, no matter what, someone does think I'm great, fantastic, dreamy and sexy. I miss knowing that my favorite sweatshirt is in the dirty clothes because she wore it to bed all last week, when I was gone, because it smelled like me. I miss the weekly visits to the local florist shop. I miss looking at mushy greeting cards, and thinking that I could come up with something, if not more, than at least as romantic.
I miss having to adjust the driver's seat in my car. Adjusting the mirrors, too. I miss the aggrevation of having to stop at the gas station on my way to work, because she "forgot" on her way home from being with the girls. I miss pushing her with my shoulder as we sat watching movies, just to make her giggle. I miss GOING to the movies.
I miss the soft sigh in the morning, as the sun comes up, and a beam gently strokes her cheek. I miss randomly saying, "I love you" for no reason at all. I miss being a we, an us, a they and a them.
I miss being a half of a whole.
I even miss the lipstick left on my t-shirt collar, when she hurridly looked for something with which to dab. I miss going to the store every week for toilet paper, and once a month for the extra details. I miss the, "Wow, what a nice guy!" looks from the women, and the, "Dude, I'm sorry!" looks from the men. I miss shoe shopping, the hours at the mall looking through endless racks of dresses until the colors bled, or my eyes did. I miss the midnight runs for Hagen-Daaz, or the favorite doughnut. I miss, "Not so much salt, it's bad for you".
I miss getting up each morning and knowing that I am, by far, the luckiest man to have ever lived.
Those are some of the things I miss, that I took for granted, and pray every minute of every day I'll have back again.
Comments
oh, Tracy, hang in there, my friend. Sometimes, 'she' comes along when you least expect it, and usually when you've found contentment with being not half of the whole, but the whole all in yourself. (((hugs))) ~Nettie
Notsroflife
well, thanks!! You're right...but sometimes, you know, it just kills me that it is just me.
tracyjay