i mean. yes. i am married. i wear my ring. my eyes don't wander. and the only pants my hands have been in are my own. so it's not that i'm single. but i am.
i sleep on a futon. or on the floor. or on a couch. or an aerobed. either way. i'm alone.
i make dinner for one. drinks for one. tea for one.
i wake up alone. well, i always did that. he wakes up early and i'm still comatose by the time he's showered and out the door. but now i wake up and there isn't even a shadow of him. there is no warm imprint for me to roll into. there are no phantom kisses on my forehead as he rushes out the door. it's just me.
i'm hopeful that a change of scenery will liven up this psuedo-single life i've been living. though, i have a feeling that walking past places where we were together will make my eyes sting with tears.
so my newly not-quite-single life starts again on friday. i'm hoping these next three months go by fast. so i can get back to my very-married life.
we'll just have to wait and see.