Unmissing

by Minka Kent

life is what happens between the curveballs and happy accidents.

United we stand, divided we fall is a sentiment that can easily apply to marriages.

And for the eight hours that follow, we lie in bed—a married couple pretending to sleep, pretending our life isn’t falling apart or changing in ways we never could’ve anticipated. Feigning, in deafening silence, that everything is going to be perfectly fine come what may.

I realized then that it didn’t matter how strong a person was, how resistant they were to criticism and judgment—life could still wear a person down if they weren’t in their own driver’s seat.

There’s a fine line between loving someone and submitting to them. It requires balance, intention, and action.

“I miss you,” I whisper. It’s a strange thing to say to someone who’s right beside me, but I don’t know how else to convey to him that lately he’s here . . . but he isn’t.

Never give a horse too much rein lest he think he’s the one leading the excursion.