Days 73, 74, 75, & 76

I worked all day on Monday, left around 7:30 to buy some mini bottles of wine, and went straight to the theater with my lady co-worker friends to watch Bridesmaids. It was such a fun evening and the movie was grrrreat. It wasn't a crying kind of movie; it was a laugh out loud and, at one point, a sing-along kind of movie. But still, I managed a tear. It was just a little one and I’m blaming the wine.

Tuesday & Wednesday are easy: AMERICAN IDOL Y’ALL!!!! It was so good. I didn’t know who I wanted to win and I don’t think it matters. They will both be famous. I want them to get married and have little babies that wear little baby cowboy boots. I also want Carrie Underwood’s legs.

So, after three carefree days Thursday brought the breakdown I’ve been waiting for. I don’t really have a reason for crying so much. It was late that night and I had been feeling a bit weepy, but I kept telling myself I didn’t have time for a good cry. I needed sleep and I didn’t need puffy eyes the following morning, but after tossing and turning for an hour or so I caved. I turned my head into my pillow and sobbed. I don’t really have a specific reason or trigger, but I cried and cried until my lips swelled up. I had to sleep with a cold rag over my eyes and I think it worked because I didn’t look all that bad the next day. I felt refreshed and a little more stable actually. Which is a good thing because Josh is convinced I am too emotional lately and is dreading our 8 hour car ride together on Monday, so hopefully my little sob sesh helped clear my head and I will be nice to him the entire trip!

Day 72

On Sunday I arrived to work in a pretty good mood. That all changed when I logged onto my e-mail. See, while I am currently working in Portland for my old boss, I was originally supposed to be working in L.A. WITH my old boss…and my two best friends….and every single person I love from my old job. They are ALL there in L.A. working while I train a new employee in Portland. To be fair, my boss did call and ask if I would be willing to make this change and I did agree, so I really can’t complain. But I am anyway. Because I am sooooo sad I have to miss seeing everyone I used to work with and I have to be here in rainy old Portland and all my L.A. co-workers keep posting and texting and e-mailing me pictures of all the fun they are having and it makes me want to scream. Or jump on a plane to L.A. Or just go home and cry.

In addition to all the fun I am missing out on in L.A. I am also missing out on the following back home in VA:

A Wedding Shower

A Baby Shower

A Birthday Party

A Memorial Day Gathering

In my last month of spending time in Charlottesville with friends and family, I am missing everything to work or house hunt in Atlanta. So instead of opening all these party invites and fun pictures with excitement, I open them with a very heavy heart. I feel left out. I feel panicked at how little time I have left in Virginia. I feel sad.

So on Sunday, when I opened all these RSVPs and beach cookout pictures I just blinked up at these ugly fluorescent convention center lights and willed myself not to cry. And it worked. I lasted allllll day without crying. Then I went back to my hotel room and let it all out.

silver lining

Even though I cried myself to sleep on Saturday, the good news is the world didn't begin to end! This means we all escaped five months of torture AND we get to laugh at all those crazies driving around in cars advertising The Rapture That Never Was.

Day 71

My favorite word in the entire English language is ‘husband’. It used to be ‘y’all’ but my recently acquired right to add a satisfying ‘my’ in front of the h-word quickly bumped it to 1^st place. I never, EVER use the phrase ‘my husband’ without feeling a little thrill. I hope I never grow accustomed to uttering those precious words.

In the early days of our marriage Josh & I established an evening routine. When he leaves work he texts me “Heading your way” and I answer “Yay!” As soon as Josh opens the front door he yells “Wife!” and I shout “Husband!” then he lays his briefcase on the kitchen chair and hugs me. He puts both his arms around me and holds me tight without saying a single word. It is the most precious moment of my day. I’ve always appreciated the fact that Josh hugs me hello instead of kissing me. It requires more effort than a passing kiss and it’s sweet and quite and it makes me feel like he’s been waiting all day to hold me in his arms. It is just a second or two and then he lets me go. He loosens his tie and lays his papers and name badge and pager all over my kitchen counter and starts telling me about his day, but it’s those quite moments when he first walks in that start my evening off so perfectly.

We often end our evenings in a similar manner. After we’ve turned off the TV and our conversation has faded Josh will sometimes whisper into the dark “wife” and I’ll turn to him and cuddle up and answer back with a whispered “husband”. He’ll kiss the top of my head and I’ll roll back over to my side and fall asleep. I love this. And so, on Saturday night while my east coast body tried to fall asleep on a west coast eve, I was desperately wishing for darkness, and my favorite pillow, and to hear my husband whisper in the dark “wife” so that I could turn to him and utter that sacred word back. I longed for it so much that tears streamed down my face and, finally, I fell asleep with the word husband stuck in my throat.  

Day 70

 

I arrived to Portland on Thursday only to find out I didn’t have to actually work ‘til Saturday. So Friday was a free day for me. Or rather a day I could have been at home making plans to move, finishing school work for my class, and cuddling with my man.

But we won’t go there.

Anyway, I didn’t really take advantage of my day in Portland. I’m not good at venturing out on my own and seeing the sights. My friend, Ashley Taylor, is born to travel. In every city she visits for work she ends up going to concerts and sporting events and on hikes. She is always out and about soaking up every opportunity. She left Portland a day before me and her adventurous ghost was haunting me as I spent hours reading and facebooking in my room. I wish I could be more like her because sitting in one’s room all day pining away for home is depressing. And it’s not a good way to start a trip. So Friday wasn’t really a crying type of day, just more like a rainy, feeling sorry for myself day. Ho hum.

Day 69

I left for Portland on Thursday. Something about traveling always makes me a little reflective and solemn. Looking out from my little airplane window on clouds and sky makes me feel very serious and philosophical. I don’t know why, but I’ve always been that way. So with all that is going on lately, Thursday felt…heavy. I thought about Ken and his family of course. I tried not to get angry that I have to travel from home and miss his funeral. I thought a lot about our move to Atlanta and how special it is to have someone to live a life with and face new experiences with and call the minute your plane lands.

There was a soldier coming home from Iraq on my plane. He looked like he was 16 and his seat was in the last row of the plane by the bathrooms. The flight attendant moved him up to first class and the whole plane clapped and cheered as he made his way to the front. I cried and felt like a total dork and was happy for the dimmed cabin lights. I tried to wipe my tears away inconspicuously as I gazed out the window and thought how bittersweet life can be sometimes. How in one day you can kiss your husband goodbye, grieve the loss of a friend, travel from one coast to the next, and celebrate a soldier’s homecoming. 

Days 67 & 68

Well, I broke my dry spell on Tuesday. It wasn’t the major breakdown I am still waiting for, but it was more intense than normal considering I was crying over Glee. It was a good thing Josh was home, because I almost got up during the middle of the show to go in my bedroom and sob. I didn’t, because Josh already thinks I’m weird enough, so instead I sat on the couch and cried and cried. Josh didn’t bat an eye. But he sat with me. Which is really nice since he usually won’t even stay in the room when Glee is on.

On Wednesday my friend Ken Frank passed away. I got the message when I woke up Wednesday morning and I have to admit, I didn’t cry at first. Josh had gone by to visit Ken & Barbara Tuesday afternoon and he had warned me Ken was in bad shape. So when I got the news on Wednesday, part of me felt like this was for the best, that the Ken and Barbara I know wouldn’t want this life for Ken. Which I guess is true, but that evening when Josh got home and I was talking to him about it, I got really upset. Because if I’m being honest with myself and trying to rationalize what type of life Ken deserves, then I would say it is the life he had before the stroke. Ken didn’t deserve to die. It isn’t BETTER that he’s gone. And Barbara doesn’t deserve the hand she’s been dealt either. So the truth is- the whole thing sucks. It is sad and unfair and heartbreaking. I know I am just one of many crying over the loss of Ken.