In my freshman year of college I had my heart broken. It was devastating and I thought there was no recovery in sight. I was sure I would never move on and so I decided to plan out my life alone. I still wanted kids so I assumed I would just use a sperm bank or something. I was tough. I could handle the logistics of child rearing and love the crap out of that kid.
Since Josh has moved I have been able to get a taste of this and you know what? I can do it. The logistics are the easy part. 95% of the time the girls get everywhere they need to go with a parent there if need be. And yes, I love the crap out of them. I thought this was all I would need. I didn't see the most difficult part.
The hard part is the vacancy. The absence of a partner. Not in dealing with the kids (although that can be tough), but in dealing with myself. The emptiness.
I don't rush over to the couch to get the good seat, there isn't anyone else to get it.
When I turn to make an inappropriate joke, there isn't anyone to hear it.
There isn't anyone for me to slide my cold feet under to warm them up.
I don't put perfume on before bed, there isn't anyone to smell me.
When I feel exceptionally cute and realize there isn't anyone there to see.
The nights are the worst. I wake up, multiple times a night, reaching out to lay my hand on the chest that isn't there.
Maybe if I'd never had it I wouldn't miss it. But I did, and I do...