I'm not used to the silence
I don't know that I'll ever get used to that
Sometimes I curse this life for
being the way it is
I am envious of those
whose husbands are only
a work day away
When they've had a horrible day
and can dial his number and talk to him
until they feel better
There are times we go weeks without
knowing if the other is even
alive
those are the bad days
On good days
I get an email from you
and tears well up in my eyes
as I read it
in your voice
and oh, how I miss your voice
I swallow my sadness and put on
a brave face
and tell you that everything
back home is great
I'm doing okay, really
but what I want to say
is that I miss you so much it hurts
and I can't ******* breathe
this distance is too much right now
and I'd beg you to come home
until I am blue in the face
I count the number of times
I get through work without crying
as successes
Each day I am able to make it to my bed at night
or through my front door
or to my car
or even
to the public restroom
before losing it
is a win
But I say none of these things because
they won't do any good
you're still gone for however long and
I am still a mess
but I'm your mess
and when the ocean between us
is drowning me
I will remember that.