to miss him

my love's voice is floating through these computer speakers in the form of songs he's recorded for me in his bedroom on his macbook. and the trinkets of delight and wisdom from our recently ended phone conversation are also here to keep me company.

i miss him.

i don't normally miss people, except in theory. i am usually present and content with whomever is nearby. this isn't to say that i don't get excited about seeing people i haven't seen in a long time and relish time with them when we are reunited.

but this... this is a missing with physicality, persistence, and depth.

to miss him is an aching beauty:
to find each experience, person, and sight would be richer if he were there with me,
to feel the yearning in my body that knows it is meant to be where he is,
to shiver with fear at the thought of something happening to him,
to know that all of this is part of God's good work in us.

(in just under three weeks, he will come for me. it will be time.)