Mike's returning to Homer tomorrow so I'll be able to talk to him. I should be ecstatic. I mean, of course I am, but there is a guilt that I cannot shake. He is going to return with all of these men who have someone at home waiting for them. All I can offer him is a voice on the phone and some pretty words on his computer screen. I won't be there to jump into his arms and cry about how much I've missed him like the other women in Homer can. I can't have the house fancied up for him or a meal waiting for him. Because what I can provide him is so unbelievably limited, I feel
sorry for him. Not in a pitying sense, but more like, "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry I can't give you those things sweetie. You deserve all of that and more. I want to give you all of that and more."
Though I guess that what I provide him right here and now is enough because he seems happier than some guys who do have someone waiting for them. He even said it. I make the man happy. It's a hard concept to accept but it doesn't make it any less true I suppose. I'm still sorry for only being able to offer you a phone call.
I miss your lips too.
A phone call from someone who genuinely wants to talk to you is so much better than a cooked meal from someone who doesn't and who is secretly poisoning their soup. Not that any of his friends are getting poisoned soup. Although it's possible. I'm just saying it's hard to poison someone over the phone so at least he doesn't have to worry about that. It's the silver lining. Sort of.
ReplyDeleteI'll stop talking now.
The fact that you care and he feels it is all that counts. Enjoyed your post.
ReplyDelete