Missing the pain

I looked at my forearm and saw a round bruise right now…it made me smile.  It has been almost 4 months since my husband gave me my last bruise, almost 4 months since he last made me bleed…

Yet I looked this bruise that looks much like a thumb print…but there are no fingerprints to be found.  When I saw the bruise I smiled, a quiet sad smile.  One of longing, of sadness, a smile that came from a desire so deep within me that if is almost buried.  A desire to be a wife to my husband, a desire to be held, to make love, to be touched…even if it isn’t always good.  Even if it is rarely good…sometimes there was love in his touch.  Moreso years and years ago…and not so much in the past 4 years. 

I smiled imagining this bruise was from him…because it would mean we were near…and it would mean I wasn’t really hurt…only a tiny mark.


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