i am giddy like a school girl. But just as nervous. Biting my lower lip while i follow the 2-foot terrorist around the baggage area. His plane is already on the ground and we are just waiting for Him to make His way down to the baggage area.
i grab the kid and divert him around in another direction. He laughs and takes off. My phone rings. He's coming down. The butterflies and nerves have not stopped all morning. Eight months is a long fucking time to be apart.
i peer through the crowd headed my way for the baggage claim looking for my Master, my husband. i scoop up our son and start talking about Daddy who he knows only from video and phone calls. THERE HE IS!
My heart races, overwhelmed with love...with happiness...with desire. We hug and kiss. After so long, it's the simple things that mean the most. Like being able to hold hands. The toddler recognizes Daddy's voice but not his face.
Master has a colleague with Him so we hold back until after we drop him off. Hands held in the car on the way home, leaning over to kiss passionately at each stop, leaning my head on His shoulder. i missed Him so much. i forgot how much (you get used to it after awhile) until He was there in front of me.
Being able to call Him "sir" and "Master" in person...seeing the smile on His face when i say it, these are the moments i waited for all these months. It's only for 2 weeks, but we're going to make the most of it.