Crafty Intentions

I keep thinking that my next post will be sunny and cheerful and by the time I sit down to write it, I feel Meh. Or, like today, I feel down right glum.

Greg came home on Thursday night late. Although we got into a fight on the phone on his way in (I told him NOT to tell me when to expect him so that I could just be elated and excited and hopeful all night, HE called at 9:00 to tell me not to expect him till Midnight because he thought I was speaking in code for "PLEASE TELL ME"), when he walked in he kissed me and didn't stop for a long time.

I won't fill you in on the details, but thank God the Nuva Ring is history.

He took me to work friday morning and worked his magic with packing and grocery shopping and dropping Dexter off at the Kennel. We actually had the chance to sit down and watch the first episode of Desperate Housewives together before we took to the road in a caravan to the family cabin for the weekend.

The weekend was a blast. Everyone got along swimmingly and we played a ton of games and talked and laughed, etc.

We left to go home on Sunday after lunch.

On our way back we stopped to pick up some wine and browse some DVDs. We stopped several times at various Dunkin' Donuts. We held hands. We picked up Dexter.

For the last hour of the drive I buried my face in his palm and kept it pressed to my cheek till we pulled up to the house. I unloaded the car as quickly as possible, we ordered food.

We finally sat down and after eating, we clung to each other while Desperate Housewives played on. Episodes only last about 43 minutes. I would be lying if I told you I wasn't checking that number display on the DVD player.

When the credits started to roll, we started crying almost simultaneously and we begged each other to watch just one more episode so that we could maybe sit even more closely entwined for a little while longer.

When it ended, I kept my shit together while he ran and grabbed a few last minute items and took the dog out. I kept it together while he put on his coat and opened the front door. I broke when I tried to speak - just to say "Okay, Drive safely. I love you."


I don't know what you see in this - I don't know if you think of me as pathetic or immature... Co-dependent or weak. What I know in a deep way is that I am in pain with him gone.

I hate it.

The first week he left in the early morning and I didn't have a chance to cry - he kissed me while I slept. It almost flew by AND he came home a day early.

This second week caught me off guard and his departure left me empty. It was as though my innards were savagely vacuumed from my body in relation to him driving away. I thought this week would be easier because my brother was coming to be with me. Brendan's been nothing but a cool, chill guy. He let me watch Desperate Housewives, he hooked up my bluetooth and he's made my itunes music available on my Living room tv. And I still feel complete despair.

I feel like crying at very random times. I wake up every hour all night long. I get tired at 8:00 p.m.

Car rides are the worst. On my way to work there's a voice that taunts over and over in my head that the one thing that made it worth it - going home to him - is denied me for the next month.

When I called her crying a few minutes after he'd walked out the door, my mom's first question was "Did you at least wait to cry until he left?"

I tried.