Excerpts from my Journal | 07

Last month Dom and I spent a night in the mountains. I didn't notice until two days later that he'd brought home one of the small lotion containers from the lodge. I'd gone looking for lotion, my hands were dry. So I used some of it. And that scent... that deep, spicy scent... I just can't figure out what it's reminding me of. Was it cologne that a past boyfriend wore? A favorite candle long burned out?

Every evening before bed, now, I put on some of it. I'm desperate that one of these times it will come to me. Where in my past it had its place.

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Here's what going on three days without Dom has taught me. One: I feel his absence so fully that it almost presses against my lungs. Two: I really do love being at home. We have--finally--built a home that is truly ours. Three: I wake in the night and I reach out for him. Five: this was good for me. A chance to miss him. Maybe it will be good for him, too.

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Can people really change?
Because all I can think about is that I desperately want to be a better version of myself.

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Thanks for reading,

rdg