I'm missing my baby something fierce tonight.
I know I haven't written much this week. Quite frankly, I've been in a somewhat paralyzed state, going through the motions, doing what needs to be done to get through each day, but missing her. Always missing her.
I know our relationship is still young, but as I've said before, we've known each other for years. We've lived together. We've shared tears, anger, passion, peace, and happiness. We've experienced the ordinary moments and the extraordinary ones. And somewhere along the way, after everything life has thrown at us, we've chosen each other.
That ain't no small fucking thing.
Looking at another human being and saying, "I choose you," carries a weight that I don't think people always appreciate. It's dedicating your heart, your soul, your very fucking being to another person. It's saying that no matter what life throws at us, my shoulder is here, my hand is here, and my heart is here. My sword, my back, and my strength are yours to lean on.
And we've made those vows.
Yes, I know we're technically not married yet. But we've already made those vows where they fucking count. To each other. Without an audience, without a ceremony, and without needing anybody else's permission to mean every goddamned word.
And so I find myself missing her fucking dearly tonight. There's an ache in my heart and a longing in my soul that's so fucking difficult to describe. I miss her presence. I miss the ordinary moments. I miss simply knowing she's there, even when we're not doing anything particularly special.
But sitting here tonight, missing her as much as I do, I've found myself wondering something that I don't particularly like asking.
Have I squandered some of the moments I've already had with her?
I know I've been doing what needs to be done. Of course I have to go to work. Of course I have to keep a roof over our heads, gas in the furnace, and food in the refrigerator. Of fucking course I have to do those things. Providing for the life we're building together matters to me, and I'm not about to apologize for taking that responsibility seriously.
But have I become so focused on those responsibilities that I'm just fucking tired all the time? Have I spent so much energy doing what I believe needs to be done that I haven't taken full advantage of the time I actually have with her?
That's the question that's eating at me tonight.
I know she's coming back. She's visiting family, and I know she misses me too. This isn't some tragic farewell. It's a temporary separation, and we'll be together again soon enough.
But that doesn't make the question any less important.
In my ambition at work, in my relentless need to prove my worth and smash my fucking head through that ceiling, have I allowed my career to take priority over the moments I have with the woman I love?
And if I have, what the fuck am I doing?
I've spent a lifetime pushing myself. Taking on responsibilities. Working harder. Trying to build something better. There's always another problem to solve, another goal to reach, another obstacle to overcome. And somewhere in all that ambition, it's awfully easy to convince yourself that you're doing everything for the people you love.
But what good is building a life together if you're too fucking exhausted to actually live it?
That's something I'm going to keep asking myself, because if there's one thing death has taught me, it's that deathbed regrets can't be fucking fixed.
I've been close enough to that particular finish line to know that tomorrow isn't something we're guaranteed. I've died three fucking times. And somehow, I'm still here. I've been given more time, and I have absolutely no intention of treating that time like it's an unlimited resource.
When the end finally comes, I don't want to look back and realize I spent the best moments of my life chasing another professional accomplishment while the woman who mattered most was sitting right beside me, waiting for me to come up for air.
I don't want to remember all the evenings I was too tired to talk, too distracted to listen, or too consumed by whatever bullshit happened at work to appreciate the fact that she was there.
I want to remember the laughter. The conversations. The quiet mornings. The rides. The moments when we didn't have anywhere to be and nothing particularly important to accomplish, other than being together.
And if I'm feeling this way tonight, then clearly there's something I need to change.
I don't know exactly what that looks like yet. I still have responsibilities, and those aren't going away. But there are ways to make more room for her. Ways to be more present. Ways to stop allowing work to consume every ounce of energy I have before I walk through the door.
It starts with acknowledging the problem. Making the declaration. Setting the intention. And then doing the fucking work to turn that intention into action.
Because love isn't just something you declare. It's something you live.
I plan on cherishing every fucking moment I have with this amazing woman who has captured my heart. Not just the extraordinary moments, but the ordinary ones too. Especially the ordinary ones. Because those are the moments that quietly become a life together.
And I need to remember how I feel tonight.
I need to remember this ache, this longing, this sense that something essential is missing from my world while she's away. Not because I want to dwell in sadness, but because I want to remember the contrast when she's home.
When I hear her voice. When I see her smile. When I reach for her hand. When we climb onto our motorcycles and head down the road together.
Those moments aren't interruptions to the important things in life.
They are the important things.
I've said these words to Dawna before, and they form the foundation of the life we're choosing to build together. I meant every single fucking word when I said them, and I mean them just as deeply tonight.
You bring me more happiness and love than I ever thought I deserved.
You calm my soul.
When I'm with you, the noise in my head disappears.
When I ride with you, I'm home.
When I wake up beside you, I know exactly where I'm supposed to be.
You are the woman I want beside me for every sunrise, every storm, every ride, and every mile this life has left to offer.
I don't want to ride ahead of you. I don't want to ride behind you. I want to ride beside you.
For the rest of my life.
I miss you, Dawna Lee.
