the loneliest hour

arrived home
after 5 long days away,
to a house with
no lights on
no little faces
peeking through
the windows in expectation,
no 
"welcome home!" 
in sight.
it was extremely 
under
whelming
and my heart hurt
more than i could say.
i entered quietly
the house asleep
everyone safe at least-of this 
i could take
a bit of comfort.
i pulled myself up the stairs
each step heavier than 
the last-
how could i feel so lonely
with a house 
full of people?
i kissed each of my 
children,
their bodies hot and sticky
in the late august heat
i took a few moments
my hand resting on their chests
the rise and fall of their 
lungs
steady.
they did not stir.
i could not really blame them-
it was late, 
my flight had been delayed
and they needed to sleep.
the squeals, squishes, and delight
would have to wait 
till morning.
i came back down,
working my way through the 
dark house,
my feet creaking with each step.
i sat on the edge of our bed,
pulling off pants, 
ripping off my sweatshirt
my heat and 
anger rising.
i guess it was directed more so at 
him,
angry that he didn't wait up 
for me
that he wasn't there
with bright eyes of eager longing
for his wife
did he even miss me at all
what did it matter 
that i was home or not
[my thoughts tend to spiral 
quickly]
he did stir.
hi baby,
he said groggily. 
pretty tired?
i mumbled 
passive aggressively.
of course he caught it 
right away-
he is my husband after all 
he sat up
his soft white skin 
glowing 
against the moon
and i wanted nothing more than 
to snuggle myself inside 
his arms
it had been too long without 
me resting there 
but my pride and hurt 
and crushed expectation 
all screamed in protest 
so instead i burst into tears
and did not stop.
not even when he pulled me 
next to him-
wide awake now
pained that he failed me,
that he let me down
i could only give him 
my back.
he whispered soft and gentle 
apologies 
no defensiveness or 
anger in his voice 
i half hearted tried to 
pull myself back
towards us 
towards 
me and him 
and him and me 
but my soul had gone out to sea
he still held on,
an anchor
he let me cry
stroking my hair
and rubbing my back 
just like every other night 
and i wanted to let it 
comfort me.
i knew it was mostly 
that high expectation 
that i had created in my head 
and it was no one's fault-
i never verbalized i wanted a grand 
welcome home 
or to be told that 
i that i was, indeed, missed.
these things happen sometimes 
in marriage 
the hurt comes and goes 
the expectations hide beneath 
our tongues 
and hearts 
but we need to let them 
off their leash 
so they might escape 
and give each other grace..
he is and always will be 
my greatest gift
i don't deserve him.
we made it to morning 
our hearts soft and tender 
once again
and i remember 
i am entitled to nothing 
i deserve nothing 
it is all a gift 
and o have i been given 
many.