My Life Without You

I haven't seen my husband since last Sunday. I started teaching again, and he left Wednesday for a conference in Louisiana. He's coming back this evening.

How was the week? Fine. Not much different than usual. I returned home on the nights I usually saw him and "crawled into bed" like someone in a Swedish novel. Thus, I caught up on my sleep and was able to keep up to the demands of a new position and the chaos of the return to school. What now?

Well, he's back for only two weeks before heading to Australia for another two. That means his kids will be with him and I'll be sidelined. This is never any fun. Most of this isn't fun, but I'm used to it. Next weekend, my daughter will be with her father and I'll be alone. This is always the hardest thing, feeling like I have no one to share my weekends with. Thankfully, winter is a good excuse to stay in and read . . . but sometimes it is nice to get out and play, which A and I did today, sliding down the icy slopes of the nearby park in the midday winter sun, the blaze of white and blue sky making it seem bright and balmy. After several trips up and down the hills, we sprawled back on our sleds and sun bathed. It was just what we needed, after a stressful week of snarling cold.

We are in the worst of it . . . or almost . . . the deep freeze and burn of mid-winter. I can't say I like it. I'd rather try to pull of the Danish Hygge - staying in and cozying up to candles, faux-fur throws, and sweets. Since I'm having a Dry January,  there's no comforting toddy or mulled wine libations around . . . but the month is already halfway gone. February will be fast upon us  . . . and I'll look forward to more light and love and libations.

More insight would be nice, too. I'd like to know how to get through the challenges of living alone while committed to someone who even when present is emotionally absent. There must be some better way to survive the cold.