It has been 24 hours since I left David in the safe bed.
I am trying to adjust to sleeping, but don’t want to make too much change, as he will be back home on Saturday.
The truth is, I miss him. I don’t miss the tantrums. I miss the good David that comes home from school and talks for 45 minutes about his school day, seeming to take only three or four breaths during the whole conversation. I miss stepping on his cars, and telling him that he needs to stay out of the path of travel in the living room with his toys.
A part of me is sad that he wasn’t upset when I left him there yesterday. To him, it was just another day.
I don’t miss the constant abuse and verbal sparring.