forgetfullness

It's funny the things that we adore about our spouses. It's also funny to me how quickly we can forget.

I have been sitting here for the past two hours trying to remember what it feels like to kiss my husband. He's only been gone a week and for some reason I can't remember. I can remember what it looks like, but not what it feels like. I can't remember what he smells like either. I can just remember what it feels like when I smell him. It's funny how smells can be so comforting. His smell instantly calms me. When he pulls me close to him, wraps his arms around me and I bury my face in his neck...his smell comforts me. It's also his touch, but it's his smell that my body gets lost in.

He has the softest skin. If you touch his chest it is so smooth, almost like a baby's skin. Then you touch his hands and they are rough and tough and dry. I love the opposition in that. His hands are what he works with. They are torn up, beaten and bruised. But his heart...his heart is soft and comforting. He is so beautiful.

I am afraid of forgetting that. I am afraid of forgetting where all of his freckles are, and his wrinkles, and his scars. I am afraid of forgetting what his hands feel like in mine. I am afraid of forgetting the experience of my face buried in his neck. I am afraid of forgetting...him.

I miss him. My brain has been so clouded over with pain medication because of my stupid back...but now that I am coming out of the haze...I feel so heart broken. I think tonight will be one of those sleep-in-his-t-shirt nights. Maybe that will make me feel better.