In nine days, I’ll be in your arms. I’ll be completely yours for four days. I won’t have any other responsibilities, my sole purpose will be to make you happy. I can’t wait.
I watch my countdown app like a hawk, ticking down the hours and seconds. It’s taking forever. I’ll see you just after our 18 month anniversary. You will have been gone four months. I laugh because my days have become an endless series of numbers.
I text you and you’re sleeping. You sleep away the time between shifts in an effort to make it get here faster. I wish I could.
You are beautiful always. You are especially beautiful when you sleep. I can’t count the hours I’ve lain awake and watched you sleep. There have been too many. Which is funny, when you think about it because we’ve never spent a full night together in a place where we could sleep together.
In Connecticut last Christmas we slept together on the couch with blankets and pillows between us in an effort not to give ourselves away. I wish we hadn’t.
We’ve always had opposite schedules and tried to make the most of our time together, even when you were finishing a sixteen hour shift or I was coming off of a 36 hour stretch, working three jobs. Sometimes the most we could share were small kisses and contented sighs as we drifted off, completely unable to keep our eyes open.
This won’t be like that. I’ll have dinner for you when you come home. I’ll wait for you in bed. There will be long hot showers and massages to help you relax and unwind after work. I want to make love to you for hours. I want to kiss every part of you. Twice.
I want to spoil you and love you for the four days we have. I want that time to stay with us as long as we live. I’ve missed you so much.
I love you.