getting back...

sigh.

i'm like the kid waiting for dad to get home from work. literally chomping at the bit. but when dad gets home, he's got other things on his mind, things that need attending to before i get my time.

i used to tell my kids that i just needed a few minutes of alone time. i couldn't jump right into having them all over me.

and so it is with B and coming back from the weekends. except she's "dad". i can't wait for her to get back. i feel like i keep running to the window to see if she's here yet. but she's had "a busy day at work", so to speak, and needs some ?transition? time. and just like the kid, i'm disappointed and even a little ?shocked? to not be embraced with open arms. i know the love is there... but why isn't she running to me, eager, aching even to be together again??

i know the answer of course. from the minute she leaves me on friday, i'm looking forward to her coming back to me. her return is the prize at the end of the weekend. everything that happens in between her leaving and her returning is simply a notch on the clock, some event that happens while i'm waiting for the next "real" minute of my life - her return. but she leaves on friday and goes home to a weekend of normal life - with her partner. living a life they've built and that they share. doing things, going places, small talk, sex, food, going out, staying in. the ?memory?reality? of me shrinking with every minute she spends in her real life.

and i wonder.. when she returns on mondays.. is it almost a ?shock? to find me here? to remember?