there was a time when i was so bored, lonely, and depressed that i sat in a recliner and waited for my husband to get home from the time he left for work until the moment i heard his car coming into our garage. two hours before he usually got home i sat in silence, waiting to hear the garage door going up. every time i heard a car drive past i hoped and wished so painfully that it was him.
earlier in the day i started calling him, asking him to come home early. i called him over and over, crying and panicking. i got angry every time he said the wrong thing, or didn’t want to stay on the phone for hours, just listening to me cry.
if he didn’t arrive as soon as i thought he should get home i got hysterical, sure that he was dead on the highway, crushed by an 18 wheeler. i sat in the dark , crying so hard that i could taste snot on my lips.
it was a miserable way to live. looking back, i’m surprised i didn’t die or end up alone for the rest of my life.