I did something interesting emotionally today, so I have to come and talk to you about it.
Today at work was good but a bit overwhelming. I'm at the drive-up this week, and it turns out that the drive-up person is responsible for lots of other things, too. Trying to learn all the things and how to do them definitely strained my brain. I came home feeling good about the day but, as I said, a bit overwhelmed. And it was my long day - nine hours on my feet.
When I came in the door this afternoon, I had that sense of returning to a haven that I haven't had for a long time, probably not since I stopped doing hospital work. But I immediately felt bad because you weren't here and you're not going to be here. Home is a haven, but a rather empty one. Home hasn't felt this lonely for a long time. The next emotion wasn't so surprising. It was an overwhelming longing for the days that I was a stay-at-home wife, doing volunteer work and looking after you.
Those days aren't coming back, are they? Like in my dream last week, even if you do come back, since you're dead you won't be able to work more than part-time and I'll still have to work. (Don't blame me for my dreams.) My life now is as good as it can be without you. I have no complaints. But I'd give the whole world to have you back.
I'm wondering what all this amounts to. It's probably not much and it's certainly nothing new. I love you, I miss you, it's hard here without you, and I don't like it at all. Tonight I'm feeling sad and lonely. I'm home, and I love home, but home isn't quite home without you. That's what it is - home isn't quite home without you. Home is where you are. I think I just want to go home.
Lonely from traveling,