1993: Waiting

It will be a long day: later today we should know is He heading back home before Independence Day or will He stay stuck in Málaga for another X days/ weeks.

This is somehow familiar situation though: last year we didn't saw each other in five months (His long business trip, worldwide financial crisis etc.). But to be honest the situation is much different, after living together like husband and wife for months, sharing our daily lives and quirky habits - and just loving each other more because we have found out that we are both human.

It's funny what you miss when your loved one is away... Like watching all the silliest reality police shows in the middle of the night and Mr. Wonderful reminding that I should actually sleep a bit before waking up for work, caressing my neck to help me fall asleep... or doing the laundry, ironing his clothes just because I know how much he enjoys his clothes looking good - and because the heat from the iron releases his core scent from the fibers, something I just love.

Last year, when He was in the business trip, I slept with the pillows He had slept with on our first date (does week together count as one date or dates from first to seventh?) because it was the only way for me to get any sleep - when I came back from Málaga I didn't wash my shirts in days because they brought comfort in form of His scent.

At the moment I sleep only because I know I have to and only way to actually get anything close to "decent sleep" is to hear His voice.
I knew before He went to Spain that my sleep will be disturbed during His absence, as even when He is at home, but not within three metres from me (luckily it is a rather small flat) when I am sleeping, my sleep becomes erratic.
It's not enough to know He is at home, I need to hear and smell Him, feel His warmth.

He brings me comfort, joy, happiness, love and... health, all the things I have craved for so long. (On the day when our first child will born, G-d willing, He has given me everything, and more than, I could ask for.)

During those months we spent together before his current trip I was only sick once, for five days. (I got on sick leave right after He came here, but that was recurring illness (stubborn sinusitis) and I was already getting ill when He arrived.)

Since He traveled I have been sick... I don't even know how often, I guess it has been closer to one month altogether, maybe even more: I have lost count.

Interim

If you understand any Spanish, you will get my point.

"Eres mi medicina, mi antidoto y vitamina/ sin ti soy alma perdida y tus besos/ son mi adrenalina"

Continuing...

Those infamous "They" always say how love is good for you, and I have always agreed. I have also agreed with "Home is where the heart is", as my long-time readers (or those who have had the courage to read my blog through after finding it) know, for the longest time - well, 5½ years, but anyway (surprisingly, it was my blog's 5½th anniversary month before yesterday), but still all this surprises me.

And on the other hand it doesn't... I recall vividly that evening when we were sitting on the sofa, watching clips about Lagos (indeed, Lakes) and Abuja from YouTube (part of Him comes from/ is Nigeria(n) and he wanted to show me around - and we actually enjoy googling for pictures from various African cities, or rather He googles and shows me around as I have never been in Africa and He has been touring it for business and leisure. I dare to say that we both enjoy those little virtual tours (last one lasted for hours and we noticed before midnight that it might be good idea to actually make some dinner at some point as we were both seriously hungry - it just had been so enjoyable to "travel" around)) and all the sudden He just asks "If I move to Nigeria some day, will you follow me?"

I replied without hesitation: "Of course".

And why wouldn't I follow? Home is where the heart is and my home is where He is. These months apart have proved that to be more than true. (I am actually considering finding a reasonable priced Igbo study book from somewhere (read: Amazon)... Not just because the possible move, but for many, many reasons. It would be nice to be able to hold up even a basic conversation in Igbo when ever we visit His relatives there (they speak English, but I am talking about respect here) - and as you know, knowing the language helps to understand the culture and the people.)

But, it's about time for me to head to bed. I have to wake up at 6:30 and head to work. More later.