I am sorry! I just don't seem to have the time to write here much right now. This last week has been especially hectic as I have had a commissioned painting to do and Sarah Jane is my priority. So when I am not caring for or playing with an awake Sarah Jane, I am washing clothes (she goes through so many clothes) preparing dinner, or painting.

There have been things that have popped into my mind that I have felt I should perhaps write, but then they slide on out again before I ever get to sit down. Maybe I should start running around with a notepad and jot down things as I think of them. I actually do my best writing in the shower. In there I can make the words flow like silk in my head, but I lose that flow when I sit at the computer. Perhaps I should take a tape recorder in with me. Then I would just have to transcribe it once I was back at the computer again.

Today though, I know what I want to write about because it happened just this week and was an important time for Mac and me.

So I have been busy with Sarah Jane, life and painting and to make it just that little bit harder Mac has been busy at work. He has had important people over from other parts of Europe and He has been leaving for the office before I am even awake and getting home some time after 8pm. Some days He has not seen Sarah Jane awake. And the time left over for Mac and me to be us has just been impossible to find.

We were ok, of course. Our relationship is strong enough to weather such storms. We both knew we would be just fine when the time was there for us. We didn't fight and there was no panic at the gap that widened between us. Mac knew that I was not punishing Him for not being here and I knew that it wasn't happening because He did not want to be here. We both knew that the gap needed closing but we were both just too exhausted at the end of each day. We just kept letting it go.

Until Thursday. I walked into the kitchen still half sleeping, in search of some orange juice to drink while feeding Sarah Jane and I spotted a note sitting on the table. I wondered what we were out of. I knew we had milk and bread and juice. Maybe Mac wanted me to make something specific for dinner. I poured my glass of juice and wandered over to read it. The note said three words: I miss you.

And it hit me, harder than I would have believed it could. It was like taking a blow directly to my heart. I missed Him too. I missed Him so much that I ached with it. My lungs hurt, my eyes hurt, even my fingers suddenly filled with the need to be with Him. Only it wasn't just being with Him that I needed. I suddenly needed to let the rest of the world go and just be His. I needed to submit myself to Him. I needed to give Him everything I had been holding onto, including the ever so heavy weight I had been carrying around on my back. I also knew what to do about it, it was simple really, and I knew I would take care of it as soon as Mac got home that night.

I made no special preparations. I spent most of my day playing with Sarah Jane, singing about little rabbits in the woods and repeating mama and dadadadad over and over, telling her about the painting and giving her a verbal list of what we needed to pick up when we went out to the store. She took all of this in with her usual fascination and answered me with toothless smiles and appropriately placed gaa's, goo's and giggles. When she cried I soothed her, when she was tired I tucked her into bed, when she was hungry I fed her and when she was smelly, I bathed her and massaged her and dressed her back up nice and warm. I love my time with her, she is simply the most precious little girl ever put on this earth, which probably is something every girl's mum out there would claim of their daughter. They would be right too.

So when Mac came home, Sarah Jane was already sleeping and I was kneeling, head bowed, waiting silently for Him. He put down his briefcase and laptop and took off His coat and hung it up before walking over to me. He put His hand on my head.

"Hello gorgeous girl." He whispered and reached out for my hand. "Come with me."

I stood with His help and I followed Him to the couch. He sat down and pulled me into His lap and for the next 20 minutes we held each other and we kissed and caressed and talked about nothing but us. We reminded each other of how much we mean to each other and how important we are to the other and we reaffirmed our place in each other's life. We talked about my need to submit and how beautiful and gentle He found it and we talked about the things we would do over the next few days to get back to being us in the limited time we had. It was the most wonderfully fulfilling 20 minutes of my life. He took the weight from my shoulders and let me be me again.

When we climbed into bed that night the caresses from the couch turned into loud and messy sex. He made me lose myself in Him and then He lost Himself in me and it felt so damn good to be that close to Him again that my whole body was shuddering in His arms. We lay together for a long time afterwards, kissing and touching, murmuring to each other again. After a while Mac tucked His hand under my chin and made me look up at Him.

"You know, some people would call that rough sex," He said, "But really, it was just making love, wasn't it?"

And He was right. That is exactly what it was, two people making love between them, doing it loudly and messily, but still, making love.

When time is short and people are busy it is easy to push aside the things that we know will still be there when the rush is over, but when it is an important thing that we push aside, we run the risk of letting everything else weigh us down.

I know that Mac and I will do this again at some point, let the other parts of our lives come between the us we should be, but I hope that we will always find our way back to each other when it happens. It doesn't take much effort to start it.

Just a gesture and some honesty.