I know I have been neglecting you this last week. You have been patient and long-suffering, with only your continued existence acting as a quiet, perhaps unintentional, remonstration
indictment reminder of my temporary abandonment.
Please believe me when I say “temporary.” I love you as much now as I did in March 2007, when you came into my life. In truth, you have come to mean more to me every month we have been together.
I have been taking you for granted, though, and can only plead for your continued patience and understanding, as I do not see my life settling down or my “free” time being all my own again for the next month.
Now, wait, don’t panic! I’m not saying I won’t be back to type in you, to update you, to post you until August! I’m not saying that at all.
No, I’m just trying to warn you that my personal time, my “me” time, has shrunk by 90 percent or so, which means I’m not doing much reading or knitting or TV-watching either. Until I get settled in our new place – yes, “our” place, as you are definitely moving with me – and until I am no longer training someone at work, I can promise you only that the sporadic contact and attention will continue to be just that: sporadic.
Your importance in my life will be ever greater as I will doubtless turn to you in times of need and desperation, using you as an outlet for my ramblings and then ignoring you for days at a time again.
Will you still love me back?
What I’m trying to say is trite, but true: It’s not you; it’s me.
Love you, mean it,