You roll over and hug the pillow laying where he is supposed to be. It’s almost one a.m. and you have yet to fall asleep. You hear a noise in the kitchen, he isn’t there. You ease down the hall, a bat in your hand just in case. You realize it is the fridge again, and you also see his lunch still on the second shelf. He forgot it, for the second time this week.

It’s normal to worry. It’s normal to be afraid. It’s normal to cry because you miss his so bad. At least that’s what I tell myself. He work night shift because it pays a little more. Because that was the position available at the time. He works over time because he knows that he, both of you, could use the money. He leaves for work before you even get home, and he walks in the door, as you’re leaving.

It. Is. Hard.

I don’t believe that anyone knows the real struggle of a relationship or a marriage until you break down. When you get to see each other only 14 hours a week, you know the pain. When you can’t sleep in the same bed. When you roll over to hug a pillow, you reach for his heart beat, his hand, his touch and he isn’t there. That’s when you know the pain. When you wake up from a nightmare, sweating, crying, heart racing and he isn’t there to hold you, that’s when you know the pain.

The pain of loving a man who works up to 75 hours a week. A man that works night shift because he has to. A man who doesn’t turn down over time because he knows that the extra money will help you not stress so bad. The pain of loving a man that works so hard, that is so exhausted on his few hours off, just so you will be happy, so that you can live comfortably, so that he can support you.

So to that man, I say thank you. Thank you for working so endlessly just so that you can support me. Thank you for working long hours so that we can have a few less worries. Thank you for exchanging time with your family, for a chance at a better tomorrow.

Thank you for working night shift.