Lonely for Your Company

On my way home from a Halloween party I had spent all day preparing for only to fuss with baby for an hour and half while my girls get ready to go out dancing, I realized how much I am dependent upon my partner's company. All day long I wrestled between sewing baby's costume, painting his shield accessory, preparing and feeding his and my food, redirecting him from things he shouldn't be playing with, picking him up again and again because he kept whining, willing him to take a longer nap, shower, decide on a costume for myself, and tend to Odin's (dog) needs. Babies are so demanding. This was all in preparation for a Halloween party 30 minutes down the freeway to Ashland, which I was late for because of baby's fussing. He refuses to let me set him down or chill with someone else, so I continue to hold him the entire party, fighting exhaustion, realizing in all the chaos I forgot to feed myself. The other attendees are enjoying their freedom: dancing, drinking, snacking away, playing on their phones, going to the bathroom, sitting wherever they want. Simple things I yearn for, especially when everyone is parading theirs obliviously in front of me. My sacrifices, my obligations fall into the background. In order to meet my needs, the peace of the room is sacrificed when he cries; spirits forbid me to feed myself in peace! Cannot even do that, what a chore everything becomes. I cannot be around them anymore, their freedom only aggravates me because I have none.
I left earlier than everyone, an hour and half after arriving to get baby to bed and remove myself from the frustrating circumstances. I can no longer do the kinds of things they do. Drink myself into a coma, dance the night away at a club. That requires advance planning and a competent babysitter. I accept these things, but it did not help my state of mind to be the only one left out because I have constantly pressing responsibilities. I left feeling the time I rushed to get us to that party was a waste.
Not a mile down the road, baby starts crying like he is hungry. After a few more miles for the concern to build and guilt at trying to ignore what maybe painful hunger pains, I find a secluded spot off an exit to breastfeed him. We are surrounded by darkness. Just the full sky and lights down in the valley beyond the road. I utilized this moment to breathe. Relenting, I drooped my head to the window of my door and stared up at the openness of the sky, sprinkled with stars that stretched my awareness past the vicinity of my body (where baby usually is demanding my attention), reminding me of the space outside my little cage. My mind reached out for that space, aching to float up to it, to feel weightless... free. With baby, my every action is dictated by anticipation of his every need. I know I am needing a break; tipping point.
I miss you. Every night you come home I relish, yet secretly suppress the desire for some excitement, a change in the routine. Such a change in routine as I have experienced in the last couple days since you've been gone has merely highlighted my desire for your company. You understand the constant responsibility I referred to. You acknowledge our lives no longer allow for the kind of lifestyle our friends still enjoy..I miss the familiarity of your smile, your mannerisms and silly jokes. Your presence is comforting to me, and I yearn after only a day to be entangled with you. My heart actually aches. How strange that cliche was based on truth. When we are distanced enough for the string that connects us to run taut, my love for you becomes apparent. I am intoxicated when you are near knowing that I have someone to reciprocate with, to appreciate me and show desire for me.
I cannot imagine surviving the permanent loss of you. Please be careful out there and return safely.