I have a love-hate relationship with Skype. Today, I hate it. It's a tease; all talk, no touch or scent. I know we're lucky. Who, 20 years ago, could have dreamed of free international calling with a moving image? We're probably still together -- and married -- because of Skype. Yet on a bad day, Skype is at best a messenger who garbles and distorts reality. Today, it wasn't really the technology itself that caused problems. It was me and my insecure self, wanting to hear more from him, more reassurance -- as if the perfect words would somehow cure this longing I feel when we're apart. Then he had to go to sleep and I had to meet my friend for a movie, and things were left on a less-than-perfect note. And now I have to wait until tomorrow to start over with him. I just have to get through this time, knowing that even with the perfect words (which he says often from his heart), I will not stop missing him. Three months to go before another 'visit' from my husband. Then another three months and he moves here. Too far to start counting down but close enough to make friends with Skype again for the few months remaining. I'll start tomorrow.