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Not enough ambien
Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell. --Edna St. Vincent Millay
1:53 AM | Filed Under | 0 Comments
Red wine and ambien...
Watching The Unit is NOT a good way to fall asleep. The cat is making noise and I have jumpy nerves. I keep eyeing my nightstand, and think, my landlord would be pissed if I shot a mirror. Well, its a red wine and ambien night.
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12:49 AM | Filed Under | 0 Comments
One Unit Wife to Another
And the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a help meet for him.
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2:25 PM | Filed Under | 0 Comments
Good night, sweetheart.
Night two. The movers have come and gone. And seemingly so has my husband.
As I watched him teary eyed get through security, I bit my lip with resolve that it will only be two weeks.
Mind you, we've never been apart for longer than a night and the two times that happened were hard then, too.
But the moment last night, was seeing an elderly man see his elderly wife off through security just as teary eyed as I was. Like me, he waited until security was done and waived til she couldn't be seen.
I was tempted to ask this perfect stranger, "Does it ever get easier?" But his face said it all.
I knew then, the better question was, " Do you ever really want it to?" So I let myself cry, and was thankful I had a man to love enough to cry for when gone.
With that said, I'm taking ambien to sleep. Thinking, where he's at, its three o' clock in the morning...
http://m.youtube.com/#/watch?xl=xl_blazer&v=EL-D2K0jOIw
As I watched him teary eyed get through security, I bit my lip with resolve that it will only be two weeks.
Mind you, we've never been apart for longer than a night and the two times that happened were hard then, too.
But the moment last night, was seeing an elderly man see his elderly wife off through security just as teary eyed as I was. Like me, he waited until security was done and waived til she couldn't be seen.
I was tempted to ask this perfect stranger, "Does it ever get easier?" But his face said it all.
I knew then, the better question was, " Do you ever really want it to?" So I let myself cry, and was thankful I had a man to love enough to cry for when gone.
With that said, I'm taking ambien to sleep. Thinking, where he's at, its three o' clock in the morning...
http://m.youtube.com/#/watch?xl=xl_blazer&v=EL-D2K0jOIw
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12:55 AM | Filed Under | 0 Comments
Chapters and Changes
Time changes everything.
In only a SHORT four months, and an entire life preparing up to these moments, I find I am a complete stranger to even myself. Like a stranger, I can review my life.
In high school, all I worried about was getting gas for my truck. I had a loving boyfriend, who never kept me out past curfew, whom my dad approved of, and well, really treated me like the innocent girl I was. Getting pregnant was strictly taboo, but holding hands and kisses at night kept my mind at ease. I never remember not sleeping. I was fifteen when that life ended. That boy joined the Marines, is happily married, has two kids, and writes to me often enough to "keep in touch."
In college, all I worried about was getting a decent grade point average for the semester. I needed to keep my scholarship, and I was but for a few months in four years, a one-guys girl. I had a loving boyfriend, who I lived with after six months. As long as I didn't get pregnant, my dad approved of him, too. I approved of the nurse--and the shot--who made sure my dad stayed approving. I was twenty when that life ended. That guy went to dental school, made an inappropriate amount of money, and writes me often enough to "live vicariously through me."
In grad school, I had more worries. I was single for only a moment, before getting involved in what most people would call a "complicated" relationship. Three years of on-again, off-again, co-dependency, was nothing my father or anyone approved of. I was 24 when I thought that life ended. That guy resurfaced when I was 27...and true to our pattern it quickly turned off. I don't talk to that guy. Ever.
In law school, I worried about surviving. I was alone, no matter who surrounded me. Only in a brief moments did I find anyone worth sharing any part of myself with. A summer in South Africa, and having my books carried home for me, where the only joys I had those three years. I was grateful when I graduated at 28. I miss connecting with the good...
Now somewhere in between these years and experiences, there are areas of note... These are easily noted as chapters in my life, defined by the men in my life. I'm not quite sure why "Men" got to become the defining category, aside from the fact that the emotions and events in my life can be chronologically be placed in order by my moments with these men.
For Example...
Somewhere between on-again, and off-again, I found Someone who to this day remains a postcard and a smile. Via facebook, I readily envision that he has a home life and is happy. I dreamt about him last night, and wonder when I'll hear from him again.
Somewhere between that I ruined a friendship with a guy that probably truly loved me, because despite loving him, we never did find our moment. Despite my pleas, he will not talk to me.
Later, I can define one very brief solitary moment, with a soldier going overseas, that changed my life, for the one night I knew him. The stuff movies are made of. In fact, I refuse to watch "Dear John." Oddly enough, we write like the pen-pals we've become, sharing his wedding, our mutual on-goings, but mostly, our differing opinions on politics, religion, and complex social problems with no solution. His next email, is always the response of one of my own.
Finally, throughout everything mentioned above are the guy best friends. One is a best guy friend, who remained always and only a friend, whose girl of three years is now my confidant and was my maid of honor.
I now talk to her, and occasionally he answers her phone.
Only shy of a year, is another guy friend--who, despite its own complex need to wrapped in each others lives, we rarely make the time to be with one another. I only now think this is for the best. He is married, with a daughter-and that little girl makes his world. Surprisingly he'll fly across the country just to see me, but
I have to read his wife's facebook just to learn where he lives lately.
__________________________
There are missing pages, some ripped, some dog-eared for the reader of my life...but for the most part, it is those chapters have defined me.
Now I embark on a new chapter and I wonder how it would read.
In my married life, I worried about everything. I had a loving husband, who supported me in all that I did. He reminded me of my dad, and my dad approved. He treated me like the innocent woman I was. Getting pregnant was becoming a goal, and it seemed to only scare me.
Time changes everything.
In only a SHORT four months, and an entire life preparing up to these moments, I find I am a complete stranger to even myself. Like a stranger, I can review my life.
In high school, all I worried about was getting gas for my truck. I had a loving boyfriend, who never kept me out past curfew, whom my dad approved of, and well, really treated me like the innocent girl I was. Getting pregnant was strictly taboo, but holding hands and kisses at night kept my mind at ease. I never remember not sleeping. I was fifteen when that life ended. That boy joined the Marines, is happily married, has two kids, and writes to me often enough to "keep in touch."
In college, all I worried about was getting a decent grade point average for the semester. I needed to keep my scholarship, and I was but for a few months in four years, a one-guys girl. I had a loving boyfriend, who I lived with after six months. As long as I didn't get pregnant, my dad approved of him, too. I approved of the nurse--and the shot--who made sure my dad stayed approving. I was twenty when that life ended. That guy went to dental school, made an inappropriate amount of money, and writes me often enough to "live vicariously through me."
In grad school, I had more worries. I was single for only a moment, before getting involved in what most people would call a "complicated" relationship. Three years of on-again, off-again, co-dependency, was nothing my father or anyone approved of. I was 24 when I thought that life ended. That guy resurfaced when I was 27...and true to our pattern it quickly turned off. I don't talk to that guy. Ever.
In law school, I worried about surviving. I was alone, no matter who surrounded me. Only in a brief moments did I find anyone worth sharing any part of myself with. A summer in South Africa, and having my books carried home for me, where the only joys I had those three years. I was grateful when I graduated at 28. I miss connecting with the good...
Now somewhere in between these years and experiences, there are areas of note... These are easily noted as chapters in my life, defined by the men in my life. I'm not quite sure why "Men" got to become the defining category, aside from the fact that the emotions and events in my life can be chronologically be placed in order by my moments with these men.
For Example...
Somewhere between on-again, and off-again, I found Someone who to this day remains a postcard and a smile. Via facebook, I readily envision that he has a home life and is happy. I dreamt about him last night, and wonder when I'll hear from him again.
Somewhere between that I ruined a friendship with a guy that probably truly loved me, because despite loving him, we never did find our moment. Despite my pleas, he will not talk to me.
Later, I can define one very brief solitary moment, with a soldier going overseas, that changed my life, for the one night I knew him. The stuff movies are made of. In fact, I refuse to watch "Dear John." Oddly enough, we write like the pen-pals we've become, sharing his wedding, our mutual on-goings, but mostly, our differing opinions on politics, religion, and complex social problems with no solution. His next email, is always the response of one of my own.
Finally, throughout everything mentioned above are the guy best friends. One is a best guy friend, who remained always and only a friend, whose girl of three years is now my confidant and was my maid of honor.
I now talk to her, and occasionally he answers her phone.
Only shy of a year, is another guy friend--who, despite its own complex need to wrapped in each others lives, we rarely make the time to be with one another. I only now think this is for the best. He is married, with a daughter-and that little girl makes his world. Surprisingly he'll fly across the country just to see me, but
I have to read his wife's facebook just to learn where he lives lately.
__________________________
There are missing pages, some ripped, some dog-eared for the reader of my life...but for the most part, it is those chapters have defined me.
Now I embark on a new chapter and I wonder how it would read.
In my married life, I worried about everything. I had a loving husband, who supported me in all that I did. He reminded me of my dad, and my dad approved. He treated me like the innocent woman I was. Getting pregnant was becoming a goal, and it seemed to only scare me.
Time changes everything.
8:57 AM | Filed Under | 0 Comments