I'm going to whine. Consider yourself warned.
I miss my husband. Yes, he's here. I feel guilty making that statement when he isn't deployed. Hell, he's not even active anymore. Still, after working through PTSD (times two), he's not the man I married. We got through the worst of it, but it has changed him.
Lately, I've been painfully aware that there are small fleeting moments where the man I married would have hugged me, reached for my hand, or put an arm around me. The man he's become does none of these. He still loves me. He's still one of the rare good men out there. PTSD just stripped him of the more affectionate side.
I know I'm very blessed to have such a wonderful husband. He's smart. He's kind. He has moral standards. He doesn't see me as a cook/housekeeper. He's willing to work together with me.
It's just that, I miss him. I miss who he was. I love this new guy, but it's just not the same. In those brief moments where I still expect him to reach out, he doesn't and I'm painfully aware of what's missing.