I Really Miss You. (Please Come Home Soon.)

Letter #1


I woke up this morning confused and disoriented. It took a minute or two to clear my head and remember where you were and why you weren't in bed with me. When I did, my anxiety subsided and I just felt that lonely feeling that is starting to become familiar now. You've been gone for more than two weeks now--not very long in the grand scheme of things, I suppose, but the longest we've been separated in over three years. The house is empty without you and sometimes I begin to talk to myself.

I'm lucky I still have a job to go to--even though it's only part-time, it takes up a good part of the day. That's actually my social life now--going to work and going shopping. What in the world did I do before I married you? Well, I did have a circle of single friends then, but they're all married now, too, or have moved away. Consequently, I don't have enough to distract me and I'm left to my own devices.

I have no desire to cook for myself, so I'm eating a lot of take-out and a delivery pizza once in a while. With only one person eating pizza, though, it takes three days to finish it off! I've also started going for long walks in the evening, listening to heart-breaking love songs on my homemade CDs. I rent a lot of movies from Blockbuster, too, and that helps pass the time, as well. I've learned to avoid the tear-jerkers and usually stick to romantic comedies that have a happy ending. The day you left, I marked the day on the calendar when you would be coming home and providing us with our own happy ending.

It will only take me about 45 minutes to get to the airport to pick you up, so I'll call the airline an hour before your scheduled arrival on Thursday to make sure your flight is running on time. The weather is a little unpredictable this time of year, so you never know about scattered showers. I thought we could grab a bite afterwards at Sizzler and then spend the evening at home relaxing and catching up on the past few weeks. Although I don't have a lot to tell you, I want to hear all about your trip and how the business end of it went, too (I know your promotion is dependent on that!).

I'm sure you'll be exhausted! How many hours of time difference are you dealing with where you're at--three or four? I'm sure it will take a couple of days to get back in the swing of things here. Luckily, you'll have the weekend to adjust your sleeping schedule before you need to go back to work again.

There are so many things I want to do when you get back. First of all, there's that new documentary at the mall cinema that's causing so much stir on the Entertainment Report on CNN. Also, I told you I haven't been doing much cooking, so I definitely want to prepare your favorite spaghetti and meatballs dinner with toasted garlic bread on Friday evening. Rick and Pamela want to get together with us next week, too, and have a game night at their house next week--we bring the treats. It will be so great to have you back; I've been alone in the house for too long now.

I don't know if it makes it easier or harder to sleep without you when I listen to those old love songs on Classy 100, but I keep coming back to them, and one song or another is always on my mind. I especially understood what Paul Young was singing about today as I puttered around the kitchen: "Every time you go away, you take a piece of me with you." Whenever you go away you take a piece of me with you, too, because wherever you go, my heart soon follows. Hurry home, Sweetheart! I miss you so much!

I am forever yours.

Letter #2


I keep telling myself that soon things are going to get easier, and that one of these days I'm not going to miss you so much. When we started seeing each other, I never thought that your being in the Air Guard would affect my life as much as it has. Back then, your service in the army meant a weekend apart each month, but then I got to see you in a gorgeous dress uniform from time to time. Things have really changed now that you've been over in Afghanistan for more than two months, and being apart just hasn't gotten any easier.

As I lie awake at night, all I can think about is how much I want to be in your arms again to just be able to hold you close. I remember the time that we've spent together, and the things that we've done. I think about the times we spent playing checkers, and surfing at the beach, going biking, reading poetry--I miss it all. During the days, I spend my time daydreaming about what we could do if you were home--it's a wonder I get any work done at all. I think of all the places that I want to visit, all that I want to do, but none of it seems appealing without you. In the meantime, I long for the day when I can have you home safe to share my days and nights.

I was thinking that when you get home, we can take that trip to Alaska that we've been talking about. I know you'll definitely be ready for some time off, and for cooler climes, and my friend told me about an ad she saw recently for a week-long cruise along the Alaskan coast. Doesn't that sound good? It would be the perfect opportunity to get away and spend some time together. Then, after we get back, of course, we can catch up on all of the movies you've missed lately, and I can't wait to start rock climbing as we planned. I even went to the library and took several books out on the subject. Then I went to The Outback Warehouse and bought some rock climbing gear so I'll be all ready to go when you get back.

Anyway, I can't wait for you to get home. I just hope that the next two months won't drag on quite as badly as these last two have. The thought of being back together is what keeps me getting out of bed each day. I'm very interested to know, too, how things went. You don't write a lot about what's going on over there in your e-mails, and I don't blame you. When you get home, though, I hope that you'll feel comfortable telling me about some of your experiences. No matter what, I hope you know how much I love and support you. You mean everything to me, and I pray every day for your safe return.

Letter #3


This evening I sat by myself at the dinner table pushing canned beans around the plate with a fork. When they were too cold to eat, I sat back and watched the clock tick off seconds as though they were minutes. Can you tell that I'm becoming a wreck because I'm missing you so badly? Later, I tried to watch TV hoping to focus my mind on something else, but the program was a love story set in World War II--you know: soldier meets girl, they fall in love, he is shipped off and dies bravely in battle holding a photo of her. Now I'm in bed crying and writing you this letter.

Unfortunately, this is more usual than not. My morning starts at six. After I turn off the alarm, I instinctively reach for you but find a hole in the bed. Then I remember that you are gone. I flip on the light switch, adjust my eyes, grope for the calendar, cross off another day, and count the remaining days until you return. Aimlessly, I dress, try to force down some toast, and go to work. At least I can stay busy for a few hours. But break time and lunch are hard--that's when we usually call each other. Instead, I sit by myself and read one of those grocery store tabloids to get the latest on the 500-pound alien baby and who's divorcing whom--all very uplifting! I can't wait for you to come home! Please hurry before I go insane!

I've started making a plan for your homecoming. I've purchased some candles and a lace tablecloth. During all my television watching, I decided to do something constructive, so I turned to the food channel and have been learning how to make some delicious French dishes. (Come home hungry!) Then I found some French music--very authentic, and very seductive! Do you remember the satin negligee I wore on our wedding night? Well, I retrieved it from a storage box and washed it carefully by hand. It still fits, which pleased me beyond words. You can let your imagination wander. We've got a lot of catching up to do.

Then, over the weekend, I booked a cabin in the mountains. You can tell me about your trip. I want to hear every detail. I want to be with you and breathe the mountain air and hold your hand and become reacquainted. I miss you so much. I need you back; I want you back.

I'm going to sleep now with the thoughts of candles, French food, French music, a satin negligee, a cabin in the mountains, and YOU on my mind. I love you with all my heart!

Until then, I am forever yours.

Letter #4


You've been gone for two weeks now. I look at the calendar and know that it's only 14 days, but those 14 days feel so much longer! We've never been separated from each other for this long before. I knew that it would be difficult, and I knew that I would miss you, but I didn't realize how difficult being separated from you this long would really be!

The worst part is at night. I put off going to bed as long as I can, but eventually I have to end up in bed all alone. When I reach my arm out for you in the night, there's nobody there. I only feel a cold sheet. Although I thought I might like being able to have all of the blankets, I would give them up in a heartbeat if you were just next to me again. I have no one to say goodnight to, no one to kiss before turning out the light, and no one to tell what my day was like at supper time. Talking on the phone is just not the same as talking to you in person with my arm around you.

When exactly are you coming home? I can't wait to see you again. When I pick you up at the airport, we can go out to dinner. I want to hear all about your trip, about what went right and what went wrong. I want to hear about your hotel and the room service, about the weather, about the people you worked with while you were there. I want to hear every little detail. I have a lot to tell you, too.

I'm so excited to see you again, to talk to you, and to hold you. We can snuggle up on the couch and watch that new movie that's out on video that we've been looking forward to. I just need to be with you again. Please come home soon.