Dear Wayne
I couldn't go on writing yesterday. The feelings of longing and loneliness that took hold of me were too strong.
Today I looked around for something to distract me from thinking about you. I studied the other women's faces in the yard. Most of them look about my age or younger.
I found myself wondering if they were having the same thoughts as I was. Do they spend their entire day and night thinking and worrying about their kids? Do they wake up in the middle of the night with their hearts aching from longing to be with their husband, lover, partner? If they do, they don't show it. They all look hardened, tired, as if they have given up already.
Then, later today, I saw myself in the mirror. It hit me that I looked exactly like the women in the yard, and I got so angry that I nearly smashed the mirror. I couldn't stand the look of my face. Thankfully, a voice in the back of my head reminded me to keep my head down, and my fists to myself.
Not a hint of emotion in my face. How is it that I look like them, worn and blank, when the loneliness is threatening to suffocate me? The aching in me is so strong, I can't understand why it's not etched into my face.
There isn't a moment when I am not longing to hear your voice and see your face. I would give anything to have you by my side, here, now, as I lie in bed, a feeling of desperation creeping up on me, wondering when I will next see you.
