Time apart

Before we were married, Mrs. Happy and I spent a lot of
time together. It was, well, sweet sorrow every time we parted.
She used to ask, "Are you going to miss me?" I would always reply, "The only
time I don’t miss you is when I’m with you." That was probably sign No. 402
of at least 500 that I was truly in love with her, but even then I didn’t recognize
my own feelings, still thinking we were "just friends." We don’t have to say
goodbye at the end of the day anymore—one of the best things about marriage.

Even so, there
have
been
times
(not
many,
thankfully) when
I’ve
had to go
several
days without seeing my wife. Those days are painful and full of longing,
but our reunions are the sweeter for it. She grows more beautiful every day,
but when I go a few days without seeing her, that progressive beauty kind of
builds up and stuns me when I see her again.

We haven’t been apart this week, but we have been sort of separate. She got
a freelance calligraphy job writing place cards for a fancy wedding reception,
and it has been taking up all of her waking moments. We haven’t arrived home
from work at the same time, or gone to bed at the same time, or even really
eaten at the same time. We have been able to converse a little, but her attention
has been focused on the calligraphy.

I’m not complaining. This was a good thing for her to do. Nice
handwriting is sort of a lost art in this age of e-mail and word processing,
and skill at calligraphy is downright rare. She has both, and her services
are like gold (at a bronze price) to brides who want to give their weddings
an elegant touch. Usually her side jobs don’t take up so much time, but this
was a last-minute thing with a short deadline. As such, it was almost like
being apart.

When she got home today she was a salve to my sore eyes, having continued
to grow in beauty as always. I hugged her like I haven’t hugged her in a week…and
then some.

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