In the past I thought about how this day would be. The sun would be shinning and I would see your black car pull up into the drive. I would imagine myself pounding out the door and running as fast as possible into your arms. You would pick me up and spin me around then say, “Finally I’m home babe, I’m home.” I would then pull you close and kiss the soft lips I missed so much. I would imagine how that would feel, knowing nothing would make me more happy then to see the day he would come home to me. Knowing all those days waiting and longing were worth it all.

Just because you want something one way and you imagine it so doesn’t mean that it will happen.

As I stare out the window in the pouring rain with a calender in my hand, tears form in my eyes. Today was supposed to be the day. He is probably happy right now, greeting family and friends and I won’t even cross his mind. He is home, but I remember so vividly when I used to be his home.

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