In the early days I used to miss him terribly. Having just arrived in London from Spain to live with him, he promptly took off to America for several weeks training and left me behind. I did not cope well with this sudden isolation.
Roll forward 20 years and I find myself joking about his absence and how it's a relief to have the bed to myself and other associated benefits to being alone and having 'my own space'.
I have always found relationships tricky. A delicate balance of co-operation, negotiation, compromise. Doesn't sound terribly romantic now does it? At times it feels like we're just roommates, not a couple: doing things together because we have to, not because we want to. I hope we can turn things around. It helps that we are friends with a deep affection for eachother. Who knows what the next 20 years has planned for us.