Mr M has a few days sober.
He is looking for a place to live (room for rent) and a place from which to run his business.
His absence - his prolonged absence - is really sinking in.
He is not here.
He is not going to BE here.
I miss him.
(Well, kinda... I do NOT miss him being drunk. I don't miss the thought of him lying and sneaking and being more a teenager than a husband. I don't miss the me worrying and policing and nagging and controlling.)
But I woke up and his side of the bed is empty.
It's not supposed to be empty... he is supposed to be IN it.
He is searching for rooms for rent (after ruling out sober living home) and all I can think is "You are not SUPPOSED to be looking for places to rent... you are a 41 year old man... you are supposed to be at home with your wife and children, not looking for a rental room like a 19 year old kid... Put on your big boy underwear and GROW THE FRICK UP!"
I am mad and sad and really tired.
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