I miss being married. I miss having someone else in the bed at night. I miss saying "my husband" in conversation. I miss the heavy feeling of my engagement ring on my finger. I miss knowing that there's someone else coming home, eventually. I miss being part of the crowd.
This is not to say that my marriage was perfect. My version of having someone else in the bed at night was to have him creep in, hours after I was asleep, and be there, snoring, when I woke up. My version of knowing there was someone else coming home was never knowing when he would get there, how much longer I would have to hold out with the kids by myself, whether he would pay any attention to me when he got home, wondering if we would fight tonight or not.
I'm at this conference, and I'm surrounded by married women. They call their husbands between sessions to say "I love you." They all wear wedding rings. In conversation, things always revert back to marriage, to husbands and wives, to the communal life that so many people lead.
And I miss that. I'm lonely. I hate admitting that. It sounds like a failure. But I'm lonely. There you have it.