21/06/2026
So I wrote something about my marriage.
My husband works on a boat. He's gone ten weeks at a time, then home for ten. We've been doing some version of this for fourteen years.
The thing is, you become a slightly different person when they're gone. I do, anyway. I stay up too late and forget to eat real food. The quiet sort of takes over the place.
Then he walks back in and undoes all of it. My schedule, the careful little life I built to get through the weeks alone. And for the first few days, honestly, I can be a unpleasant about the whole thing.
Then something shifts. I'll look up and catch him on the floor playing with Chase, and remember how incredibly lucky I am.
I stop being the version of me that lives alone, and I start being the one I like a whole lot better.
If you've ever needed one person more than the rest of the world, I think you'll see yourself in it.
It's called The Other Me.
The link's in the comments. It's free to read, and if it's your kind of thing, you can sign up right there and get the next one the day it goes out.
