I’m too full today. Disgustingly full. I feel awful. I want
to go purge in the toilet but I just drank a dark chocolate mocha so that would
taste like hell. I hate today. I guess it hasn’t been all bad but it feels like
it. I just miss G and the
kids so fucking much. It hurts. The lack of it all hurts. Who knew not being
touched would hurt. Who knew not laughing would hurt. Who knew not doing the
school run and the bedtime routine and the Saturday night dinners would hurt.
I’m so scared you don’t miss me.
I don’t want you to be happy without me. I
don’t want this new au pair to be a great experience for anyone. I want it to
hurt. I want it to suck. I want you to want me and only me back. I want you to
be in as much pain as I am. I’m supposed to be doing job applications and
resume submissions and cover letters and I just don’t care about any of it. I
just want to die. I want to be back in France. I WANT TO BE WITH YOU.
Tell me
you love me without saying a word. Text me something hilarious. Sit outside
with me on a hot summer night and sip beer and let the fireflies flicker around
us. Come with me to the farmer’s market on Sunday morning. Cook something amazing.
Tease me about America being a developing nation. Brush my collarbone. Hold me.
Know me. Let me breathe in your cologne again. I don’t want to keep crying over
this. I don’t want to keep lying awake at night. I just want to be back with
you. I could have it a million times worse, I know. But I just miss you so
much. It’s so cliché. But I do. God, just let me go back. Let me go back,
please. I want to go back. I want to cleave to G; I want to wrap myself
around him, skin on skin, and never leave. I want to lay on top of him and know
he’s there. I want to feel him breathe while he sleeps. I want to play with the
kids and laugh and run and make jokes and celebrate birthdays and take your son to climbing lessons and get groceries. I want to do all of it again with them.
I can’t accept that this year is over. Or I can but it just feels heavy and
painful. I don’t want it to be true.
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