Sunday nights.

One of the times I miss you most is when I make the bed after washing the sheets on Sunday nights. It sounds stupid, but that 2-minute exercise was about intimacy for me. It wasn’t a chore that required two people. It wasn’t a big deal. It was just kindness. It was both of us contributing to us. To the marriage bed … which sounds sort of silly and formal. But that is sacred space. Both of us tending it. When you were “on the road,” it was the one time every week that I just ached from missing you.

And still do.

I have over 150 solo sheet changes in at this point. But who’s counting?

Now I get to wonder if you are giving that part of yourself to someone else. The thought of it hurts so deeply.

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