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Missing my husband

It never struck me until a few days ago, how dependent I am on my husband. Or rather, how much I value his company and his love. When we were through our whirldwind days of romance and courtship, we settled into a nice leisurely life together. And then E came along, and suddenly, my priorities shifted- from him to her. I can’t imagine how that must make him feel, when his wife didn’t have the time to have long conversations with him like she used to, or that she’d spend weekends running after a baby and washing baby clothes and bottles. Of course he helped with the baby, he always did, although the primary duty of caring for E fell on me, which I’m not complaining about and in fact, relish.

I always thought it was E who made me complete. The memory of my married life with J, my husband, was still drifting in the recesses of my mind, but it never surfaced because everything about E became my life- she completely overpowered my entire being, such was the power that little girl had. And I was happy for it.

So, when J had to leave for a trip to Kenya (for work), it didn’t hit me all that clearly that he was going to be away for an entire week. 7 whole days. I thought, oh well, how big a deal is that? It’s work. But when he left on Monday night, I found myself sobbing into his shoulder as he kissed me goodbye, my whole body shuddering as I imagined him not with me for the next 7 days. I hugged him for a long, long time, and suddenly felt like I was losing a part of myself. The tears were still falling down my face as I waved goodbye to him. The next day, I crumbled like a cookie, fell sick with the flu and wished that he was with me by my side. I was comforted only knowing that E was with me, and that she needed me, and of course I love her with all my heart.

The weekend is almost approaching now, and J will be back in 4 days. I can hardly wait.

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