9 days is long

My husband has been on a business trip for the last 6 days. I’ve still got three days before he returns home. For the last five years I sometime catch myself thinking;  “I must not love my husband because I need to have other people to keep me happy”, “why don’t I just leave if I need this open marriage”, “can we really survive forever with our marriage being open”.

And then there are times like these that I’m reminded of just how much the open marriage supplements our relationship. He’s been gone for 6 days. I’ve been trying to figure out why I miss him as much as I do because we don’t really do a whole lot together. I mean he gets home from work, we deal with the kids, then we have some time together watching tv for about an hour, and then I collapse in bed (just fyi bi polar/anxiety meds really knock you out). So really. I don’t get that much time with him. We have the weekends, but we don’t really do much. We kind of live out in the middle of nowhere and with gas at the current prices everywhere, it’s just cheaper to stay home. Especially with me not doing parties. We are your basic paycheck to paycheck family.

Then I sat down at dinner with the kids last night and thought wow I miss watching his face light up as the kids say something funny. I miss his sigh and update about how busy his day was. I miss watching his face to see if he hates or likes the dinner I made. He’s the worst liar in the world.

I’m always nervous that I only miss him because it’s easier on me to have help with the kids. Help with the running here and there. Help with the household chores. That’s always a relief when he comes back; but recently I’ve realized that I just miss HIM. Which leads one to wonder; then why on earth do you need the open marriage? Because……………it’s what makes me miss him. Without it I would just be bitter that I couldn’t live outside of being a mom, and a wife. Without it I would be 800 times more angry that he has to travel so much. Instead I sit at home and hope to goodness that he’s out having a great time wherever he is. I complain because I’m jealous.

The freedom to experience others, and the freedom to love others, and the freedom to just be free is what makes me miss the man that gives me all of that, the man that understands all of that, and the man that’s held my hand on the path to figure it out.

I miss him.

One thought on “9 days is long

  1. Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn!
    I’ve grown accustomed to her face.
    She almost makes the day begin.
    I’ve grown accustomed to the tune that
    She whistles night and noon.
    Her smiles, her frowns,
    Her ups, her downs
    Are second nature to me now;
    Like breathing out and breathing in.
    I was serenely independent and content before we met;
    Surely I could always be that way again-
    And yet
    I’ve grown accustomed to her look;
    Accustomed to her voice;
    Accustomed to her face.

    “Marry Freddy.” What an infantile idea. What a heartless,
    wicked, brainless thing to do. But she’ll regret, she’ll
    regret it. It’s doomed before they even take the vow!

    I can see her now, Mrs. Freddy Eynsford-Hill
    In a wretched little flat above a store.
    I can see her now, not a penny in the till,
    And a bill collector beating at the door.
    She’ll try to teach the things I taught her,
    And end up selling flowers instead.
    Begging for her bread and water,
    While her husband has his breakfast in bed.
    In a year, or so, when she’s prematurely grey,
    And the blossom in her cheek has turned to chalk.
    She’ll come home, and lo, he’ll have upped and run away
    With a social-climbing heiress from New York.
    Poor Eliza. How simply frightful!
    How humiliating! How delightful!
    How poignant it’ll be on that inevitable night
    When she hammers on my door in tears and rags.
    Miserable and lonely, repentant and contrite.
    Will I take her in or hurl her to the walls?
    Give her kindness or the treatment she deserves?
    Will I take her back or throw the baggage out?

    But I’m a most forgiving man;
    The sort who never could, ever would,
    Take a position and staunchly never budge.
    A most forgiving man.
    But, I shall never take her back,
    If she were even crawling on her knees.
    Let her promise to atone;
    Let her shiver, let her moan;
    I’ll slam the door and let the hell-cat freeze!

    “Marry Freddy”-h a!

    But I’m so used to hear her say
    “Good morning” ev’ry day.
    Her joys, her woes,
    Her highs, her lows,
    Are second nature to me now;
    Like breathing out and breathing in.
    I’m very grateful she’s a woman
    And so easy to forget;
    Rather like a habit
    One can always break-
    And yet,
    I’ve grown accustomed to the trace
    Of something in the air;
    Accustomed to her face.

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