Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Some Things I Have Learned

...like when not to hit the publish button.

I did write, and damn did it help me.  But at the end of the post, it wasn't fit for consumption because parts of it could be, well, misinterpreted.  And some things were very straight forward - interpreted correctly, and that was just as bad.  So to not create any emotional drama, I let it stay in the draft pile.  At least it's there for me to look at - I guess I consider those *diary* entries.

Of course, there have been some posts in my writing lifetime that HAVE caused drama, hurt, or some other so-called negative backlash, but I can honestly say two things:
1. I have always written in a spirit of trying to be as honest as possible, both with myself and my readers.
2. Any controversial post published in the last two years were deliberate - not to cause pain or anything, but re-read and thought carefully about whether or not it should be posted.  Sometimes, I just feel the need to lay it out, whatever the consequences.  Because sometimes, I just need to be heard.  

ON A BRIGHTER NOTE:

Matt is home.  MarKo is home.  What a long ass, painful, lonely, thoughtful, introspective (how many ways can I describe *overthinking?*), educational time in my life.  I literally wrote the man every single night.  EVERY.SINGle.night.

And I am glad I did - I love him.  He needed it.  I needed it.  I wrote MORE WORDS from March 5th to April 7th than I had in the entire months of December, January and February combined. And what do I have to show for it?

Well, a very happy husband for one.  A cherished record of the roller coaster ride that is *the jail wife's life.* A much, much deeper understanding for the spouses of those in the military or some other occupation that keeps them away for long periods.  A record of all the tiny lessons and *A HA* moments that occurred in the last month.  AND many, many pages of stories - memories, mostly.

I tried to stay positive, and remain honest, throughout.  So if I was feeling really down, I would think of a cherished memory that I shared with Matt over the years and wrote about it in detail, in my story telling kind of way.  Now that I think of it, I have never been so grateful as I am right now for my drive to write.  I have given myself and my love a precious gift - that's kind of cool.

So, enough about me, right?  How is the man, the love of my life that drove me to write quite so much??

He is wonderful.

When we first saw each other, there was a weird shyness between us that I was totally unprepared for and hadn't expected.  He looked way better than he described, physically, anyways.  But for the first 12 hours, the look in his eyes had me really, really, worried.  Physically he looked the same, especially after he shaved, but his eyes?  I could tell they were weary.  And worn.  He swears he never doubted me for a second, but I would swear I saw a tad bit of fear in his eyes along with the sadness and exhaustion.

Lunch was odd. Neither of us ate much.  And although I talked a lot (I do that), it felt like there were a lot of moments of us looking at each other in a searching way: *Are you really ok?* *We ARE going back to our love story, right?* and more of *Are you really ok?*

It was like we both just kept wanting to reassure each other without wanting to keep asking.  His eyes were just so....well, they weren't the eyes I was used to, I hadn't seen him ever look so...different.  My goofy, crazy, hysterically fun, and easy going man was in there somewhere.

By dinner, I saw that man again.

And than I began to breathe.  We had kissed, obviously, but it wasn't until we got here, to the apartment, to our home, to the place we transformed from best friends to lovers, than facebook husband and wife (yep, still counts) that the palm of his hand rested on my face and I could tell he was back.

We started to laugh again. We held each other tight, too.  Tighter than I've ever been held (well, save for the embraces my dad has given me during really tragic moments in my life...) And I gave him the remote, fully accepting that I had once again lost all control over that.  (Not that I care, I'm usually trying to write...) I told him the sheets were clean - and not as a hint that they should be soiled, lol - but because I know that he loves the smell of Gain laundry detergent and after sleeping in jail for 33 days, I wanted him to smell home, feel home, relax and be loved.

And my master mechanic still has a job.  I don't know what makes him so good at what he does, and I gotta admit, I may have sometimes thought he exaggerated his extreme mechanic skills, but when we walked into his work yesterday, they acted like the king had returned.  No joke, I was stunned.  Actually, I was like REALLY?  The man went to JAIL, guys.  You all really don't care, do you?  You are that happy that he is coming back tomorrow??

I was proud.  Who knew I would feel pride in a man that just spent over a month in jail.  That's irony for ya.  Later in the evening, when he was feeling a little down, like he had let me and our family down, I said to him:

"There is no other way for me to point out what kind of man you have become except this: you left for over a month.  You went to jail for 33 days and EVERY single person that means anything in your life couldn't wait for you to return, loved you every moment you were gone, never judged or questioned your character - not once.  Everyone - me, my family, the boys, your family, your friends, even your employer, NEVER doubted you.  If that's NOT the picture of true character, babe, I don't know what it."

And with that we started having really good sex.

(That was for you Bump....he he he)

Just sayin.

Saturday, April 5, 2014

Tomorrow...

I think tomorrow, during the day, when I am not lonely or tired or overly emotional, it is time for me to write about my feelings about...

well, mourning.
my family.
how things have been for me.
why I can't talk about it much.
or rather, why I have refused to talk about it.

But, it's time.  I wake up every morning feeling slightly better, than go to bed an emotional mess, worried about everyone but me.

So its time, but not when I am emotional.  I don't want to publish something I will regret.

Just sayin'.

Monday....

The love of my life is coming home Monday.

I have written every single day and slipped it in the mail for him...I can't even begin to express how happy and excited I am to be able to talk to him instead of write.

It has been a trying and lonely 33 days.  He is literally my support and I need it back.

One more day.

:)

Just sayin.