In Between

I’m not sure what to write today.

Where to start.

But something inside of me can’t seem to breathe until it’s been born into words.

It’s one of those spring days where Mother Nature has one foot forward in spring and one foot still in winter.

This morning I stared out at blue sky while rain fell softly on my face.

I saw a rainbow I shared over the phone.

He was unimpressed.

I wasn’t surprised.

His persistent gloom should bum me out, but for some reason it doesn’t.

He’s grumpy but there’s a playfulness underneath it.

Like he’s always poking at life.

Giving a gentle jab in its jaw with a grin and wink afterwards.

We’re so different.

We come from opposite directions in so many ways.

Yet somehow we meet someplace different, new.

Maybe in the middle.

Only problem is, I live there all the time.

He doesn’t.

Not anymore.

In the beginning, before he and his partner broke up and he pulled away.

He lived there too.

When he left at first, I was so scared.

I didn’t know if he would ever come back.

Sometimes people don’t.

Eventually he did.

But not to stay.

Not all the time.

Now he just visits.

Usually in the few days before we see each other, he’ll come back to me.

God it feels so good.

His warmth.

Presence.

Vulnerability.

Trust.

Desire.

Affection.

It all deepens.

And when we’re together, even if it’s just snuggled up watching a movie.

I feel him there with me, completely.

Then, inevitably, I have to leave.

Drive home to my family.

I’ve always struggled leaving him.

But since he’s been on his own it’s brutal.

I hate thinking about him going back inside an empty house.

I know he’s lonely.

And scared.

So the rest of the time, he has to leave.

It’s confusing and it took me a while to realize why I felt such whiplash after we saw each other.

Because he still shows up.

We talk every morning before he starts work.

He texts me little updates about what he’s doing throughout the day.

Sometimes he sends pictures and videos too.

Progress on his house renovation.

The view of the sunrise from his job site.

Also YouTube shorts.

Lots and lots of YouTube shorts!

It’s adorable.

I know he’s doing his best.

I know he has to prioritize his mental health in a big way.

I know that means sometimes connecting within a more surface level of intimacy.

Because staying in that deep and sacred place we share means staying vulnerable.

Staying in feelings of missing me.

Feelings of wanting more than we can have together.

Feelings of wanting a partner in general, the loss of which is a wound still fresh in him.

I get it.

I do.

I would feel the same way if I were in his position.

I just miss him.

During those in between times.

The withdrawal.

The limbo.

The waiting.

But then, each day when he says good morning.

But then, when he holds me in his arms and tells me he adores me.

But then, when he comes back to me.

There’s just nothing like it.