I just wanted to stay inside my little cocoon of a blanket. Just a little opening for some air, but otherwise I just crept deeper and deeper into my bed. My neck hurts, I say to myself. From sitting awkwardly in long flights. My tummy growls, I say to myself. From eating too much rich food over Thanksgiving. I hug myself under the blanket and turn away from the truth.
Sure my neck hurts and my tummy could use a little break, but that wouldn't have been enough to keep me in bed otherwise. It's sadness. And loneliness. It's the fact that this weekend I got used to having his arm around me again. I got used to slipping my foot under his knee and my hand into his as we sat on the sofa. I got used to getting a hug out of the blue for no reason but that it just felt like a good time for a hug. I got used to having someone who thinks I'm funny around me all the time. I got used to having someone to talk to and cuddle with and really just hang out with all the time. I got used to being 'us' again.
And then I got back. I slipped into my cold bed and tucked my foot under my own knee. I wrapped my arms around myself and burrowed into my pillow for comfort. And I just couldn't make myself get out of bed today.
I know this from living far away from my family and my friends for a good portion of my life, but now it comes to me again. The powerful 'missing' that you don't even realize exists for most of the time you're apart, but that hits you with all of its force as soon as you get even a little taste of the companionship that could be. You stay away for weeks and months, and you get used to it bit by bit. And you still miss the other person, but you fill your life with work and people and books and activities until you don't leave too many free moments to think too deeply. But then you visit. And you re-live the joy of being together. And then you leave. And then you just can't get out of bed.
Time to shower and clean the apartment and head back to work tomorrow. A lonely heart doesn't warrant more than one sick day.