Missing - Elisabeth Klein

Question: What is the one thing you miss most about marriage?

I had a knee-jerk reaction to this question when it was asked of me recently, and I blushed and refused to answer.

But I have since sat with it and asked it of myself and I think my knee-jerk reaction – the potentially obvious answer – isn’t my real answer.

Because this is what I miss the most about marriage: that thing.  That thing that is created between two people once they take the vows and spend day in and day out together.

It’s the oneness.

It’s the intimacy.

It’s the magic.

It’s how there are two people but how the marriage itself sort of becomes this third party of its own.

It’s those moments, in bed, lights off, talking.  The words shared in whispers.  The looks across the room.  That thing.  I miss that the most.

And I don’t even think we had it all that much.  There was so much brokenness and hurt and hiddenness and rough words spoken by the both of us over twenty-plus years together that I think we kept that thing between us smaller than it could’ve been.

But I long for that.  For secrets and promises and dreams and kindnesses and looks and whispers and gentle touches.

I miss what we were supposed to have.  And I – sometimes – hope and pray for it to happen again, only more real and rich and deep next time.