I did something I probably shouldn't have last night. I couldn't have foreseen the reaction, in the way that one who doesn't bother reading the warning labels on cleaning products naively mixes the ones that ignite. It's been 5 solid days since I heard his voice, and even then I was alloted a brief bullet-pointed delivery of the day's recap before he had to run. Really, it's been about a week since we've connected in a meaningful, verbal manner. I am apparently a bit needy, and so the apart-ness is hard.
I spent the night curled up on my sofa with Macbeth, gnawing a Nylabone at my feet. We aimed to watch a movie in order to entertain ourselves and enjoy the leisurely evening. I was caught up in the riveting plot. I was on the edge of my seat, rooting for the "good guys" when the bus exploded - blew out the windows, killed off the innocent characters the audience was lured into loving, marked a gain for the fanatical terrorists. I paused the movie. I needed a minute.
I miss him, and I wish the world wasn't such a scary place both in fiction and in reality.