Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Counting the Hours
When I was working, I always counted the hours until the end of the day, week, ect. I thought once I quit working that habit would stop. Every day would be the weekend!
I find that I count the hours even more now that I am home. Except my count no longer has anything to do with me. I count the hours until Mark gets home. And no matter how hard or fast I work, I have no control over when this happens. I can just wait. Wait patiently.
And as I wait, my mind takes over, building up how his arrival will finally feel. What we'll do, say, how it will be. To have someone to talk to. To have someone to do something with. And not just any someone. Because there are plenty of someones out there I could spend time with. This Someone means the world to me. This Someone lights up my life. This Someone amazes me. This Someone makes me smile, makes me love, makes me forget that he'll ever leave my presence again.
But in this imperfect world, time is never spent like we want. There are chores to do, tiredness, mis communications, and children to take care of. But sometimes, just sometimes, the night turns into exactly what it should be. And I am happy once more.
So I wait patiently for that moment. I count the hours, I watch the clock, and hope tonight is that night, when we laugh, when we live, when we love.