By the time I am crawling into bed to write this, I am weary and exhausted from the day's tribulations. My voice is weak from trying to uphold conversation, and I'm grateful to slip into my private silence. If I were at home, I would ask you to rub my back and try my very hardest not to giggle uncontrollably as I usually do as you tackle the more stubborn knots (god knows there are so many). I would kiss you and curl up against you, too tired to do or say much of anything. And you would scoop me up and hold me and love me and probably have to roll over onto your other side eventually in order to fall asleep.
I miss you. If I were to tell anyone that (and I do, more often these days), they would have no idea what I really meant.
You are cool clear water on a warm cloudless day, you are a voice of reason with a side of optimism, you are everything. Everything.
And I am...
lucky to have you, m�j kochanie.