Made Whole

He knew she loved the feeling she got when he came home.  She could always tell when he was locking in on her; she could sense him seeking out her presence.  He knew that after a long day she wanted nothing more than to be held and he wanted to do nothing more than to hold.  They were perfect for each other that way; their bodies always came together like the last two remaining pieces of a puzzle.  His arms would slow envelop her waist from behind… pulling her in.  She’d nod her head forward slightly exposing the small of her neck. From there a soft kiss instead of hello, a deep gaze instead of conversation.

This was the dance that made coming home the most important part of his day.  It wasn’t about gender roles, it wasn’t about cooking, cleaning, or money… it was about being made whole again. It was about finding the breathe he felt leave him as he departed the house in the morning. So the deep sigh they released as they stood locked in each others arms wasn’t about exhaustion, it was about being able to breath again after being drowned by the events of the day.

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