I see your face every day, almost without fail. And I’m glad, because I really love your face.
Laughing at some random (and possibly inappropriate) joke I make for your ears only.
Concentrating over the tabs of a wayward diaper.
Intent on the bath-giving of little people.
Worshipping with eyes closed in the church choir.
Fatigued at the end of a long day at work.
Earnest at the sink full of dishes.
No human is unfailingly constant in the life of another. But you’re the closest thing I’ve got.
So why do I feel like I miss you?
I didn’t feel this way last week.
Somehow between the socializing and the serving and the working and the taking care of everyone else, you and I just aren’t as…together as usual.
We’re not fighting.
But we’re more like roommates instead of best friends. More like co-laborers instead of lovers. Like the teeniest, tiniest cracks are forming at the joint where two became one almost fourteen years ago.
Because gaps happen quickly, too.
And the thing about gaps is that if they’re left to themselves they get big enough for another woman or another man to squeeze in, and you and I aren’t above that.
But for God’s grace, we could be in that place.
And that, too, can happen quickly.
Not only that, but there are also several little people who might just fall into the gaps between us. And by the time they make their way out again, they will be very different people.
So tonight after little people are in bed and distractions are our choices rather than our responsibilities, I’m going to turn off my laptop and turn off the TV and stop folding laundry and put down my grocery list and I’m going to look into your face and listen to you.
I’m going to take action and apply the glue to seal up the cracks right now, while it’s only been a few days instead of a few weeks or months or years.
And I’m going to hold you and kiss you like I mean it and tell you I’ve been missing you.
While I still remember what closeness feels like. What one-ness feels like. What us feels like.
Are you missing me, too? Because this could all be in my head. It’s entirely possible that the distance I’m sensing could be overactive hormones or my imagination getting the best of me.
But I’m not going to listen to that voice that says it’s really not necessary or that things will be fine or that I have too much to do.
Because you know what? A little extra glue never hurts a marriage.
And after all, there’s no one else I’d rather be “stuck” with.