Well, another home leave is over. I wish I could report that the time spent away from your husband gets easier, but I’m afraid to say that, for me, for us, it does not.
I messed up this home leave and actually had to go into work on Monday, which was strange leaving Mike in the house. He was very busy doing the washing (I usually do mine overnight using Economy 7), cleaning his car (nope, not done that since….. can’t remember) and Hoovering again (going to wear it out). He had quality time with his daughter and was absolutely exhausted by the time I returned home. That’s what comes of stultifying in prison for one whole year.
Yes, one whole year has passed. I was going to blog on that subject, but am really not in the mood. We sat in the garden Monday evening and mulled over the time together we had lost. We’ll get it back, metaphorically.
Today I worked from home which meant physically I was here but mentally I was at work. Part of me wanted him to return so I could catch up on all those emails. What am I turning into? My husband, that’s what. I felt so dreadful when he cried at lunchtime. This time he just didn’t want to go back. But return him I did, and now he’s gone. It’s tantalising, this home leave, this is what life is like when you come back home – now you see it – now it’s gone. Now he’s gone.