Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Me: Thursday - Saturday


Thursday morning I woke up happy... but having this feeling I probably wouldn't hear from Devin that day. Thursday morning I woke up happy... but having this feeling I probably wouldn't hear from Devin that day. I didn’t.  And that was fine.  I know he’s busy.  And he mentioned that sometimes they get taken away and put onto “missions”… I suspect if you’re being flown to another country to train, you should probably be doing some intense stuff. 

I send a text around 10, to tell him goodnight and that I was thinking about him.

Remembering that he shares a phone, I wasn’t too alarmed that he didn’t reply back… I was tired anyway and crashed out pretty early.

By about 4pm on Friday I start to get a little anxious as I STILL hadn’t heard from him.  He’s got a job, I remind myself.  And it’s not to text me sweet messages.  Sadly, nope that’s not his job.

I occupy my time with looking for jobs, babysitting and skyping with friends.  I was supposed to meet up with some girlfriends that night and am almost relieved that they won’t be staying out much longer… and for me to get ready and meet them seems unneccessy at this point. 

Sleep.  Wake.  Babysit.  Anxiety grows again as I STILL haven’t heard from Devin.  I try not to go to the place that tells me that he’s just like every other guy in my life who eventually abandons me.  But it’s hard to not feel that way.  It seems just when I let my guard down and admit to loving him (even if not to him) he’s gone.

I have some great, supportive conversations with friends near and far.  And then… I show up to babysit my adorable niece. 

Matt:  I mate, how are you?

Me:  wwwwwwwwaaaaaah – waterworks commence

Matt and Katie shower me with hugs and love before they leave for their date night – feeling more guilty for leaving me… than leaving that adorable 3-month old daughter of theirs.  I feel bad for ruining their night – but take joy in spending time with this beautiful little girl, who sees me crying and just smiles, as if to say, “Dry your eyes… it’s not what you think.”

With Sophie, bathed, fed and swaddled, I head back downstairs.  Music… that’s what I need.  And I sit.  I think.  I listen to my voice.  Not the one of anyone around me.  My voice sounds a bit foreign… I tend to listen to and consider others voices before I consider my own.  I hear it loud and clear.  “It’s not what you’re thinking.” 

By the time Matt and Katie get home I have found a peaceful and content place – sure there are a few soggy tissues laying around me.  But the worst is over.  I feel good.  Confident and content. 

I know what I need to do.  I know what I want to do.  And I’m going to do it.  

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