Wednesday, July 12, 2006


I'm just sitting here thinking about Drew (AGAIN). I wish there were an approximate return date so I could count DOWN to it, instead of just counting UP from when I last saw him (day 108 and counting!).

This is torture. Pure torture. My new default pic shows me staring stone-faced at the place across the altar where he should have been at his sister's wedding this past Saturday. I was actually quite surprised to see that expression on my face. My mom took that picture. It really is worth a thousand words.

I broke down at the reception, long about the time the first dance rolled around. I had to get up and leave. I was on the verge of collapsing into those infamous uncontrollable sobs I speak of so damn often. I walked to the bridge and stood, facing away from the reception hall, tears just pouring from my eyes. He should have been there.

When we spoke on the phone on Sunday, he mentioned, out of the blue, that the song "My Best Friend" by Tim Mcgraw had been stuck in his mind for days. He said "I just can't get it out of my head!"

That was the song we had our first dance to at our wedding.

I just put my head on my knees and squeezed my eyes shut when he said that.

He doesn't even have a copy of that song with him. I took care of that yesterday, though, burning him a new mix CD I entitled "Songs for my Lover." It will be included in the next package.

Sometimes I am just so damn angry at him. For leaving me here, like this. I want to frickin' strangle hime for leaving while we had so many unresolved issues. Sometimes I want to yell at him, ask him why he fucked up so much, why he wants to hurt me. I still haven't gotten as heartfelt of apologies as I want in order to be satisfied. I want him to kiss my feet and BEG for forgiveness, in tears.

I am by no means trying to claim innocence, here, and if he wants apologies, too, he needs to ask for them. My problem is that the pouty "sorry!" i usually get from him is not fucking good enough. He needs to show me. He needs to fucking cry about it.

I know he's got it rough right now, too, but GODDAMNIT! I swear to GOD, I am in HELL! I hate to bitch when he's not around to defend himself, but JEEZUS, all I HAVE are my thoughts! The little devil and the little angel are at war, too -- full throttle -- inside my head. Part of me says "fuck him!" and wants to just run away, change my name, and start over as some anonymous person somewhere. But most of me wants to prove my strength and faithfulness. That part will always win, thanks to a little thing called a conscience, but the other part will always be there, too, peaking its little horns up from time to time.

I take my marriage vows very seriously, and this is just part of the "..or for worse." [actually, OUR vows said " good times and in bad...," so technically this is the BAD]. FUCK THIS!!!!

Why does the heart have to love? Why can't I just say fuck it, I don't care, I'll just go out and fuck random people so I can remember what it's like to be touched. NOPE. I guess I'll just have to wait till he gets home to remember how that feels. It sucks because I DO remember. And I miss it. I haven't been touched in 108 days. [barring friends and children]

I totally understand why marine wives have affairs. It's not because they don't love their husbands. It's out of sheer desperation. Human need. Human beings need intimacy, both emotional and physical. I feel like there is a brick wall between me and intimacy right now. Phone calls and letters are great and all, but it just doesn't cut it.

The Michelle that Drew knows is known ONLY by him. Sorry to all you others, but there are things I talk about and do (of course) ONLY with him. That person, the REAL me, is stifled now. The inside jokes no one else understands, the memories that no one else shares... it's just fucking torture! I can't stand this!!!

I still can't believe how much I miss that fucking asshole. But I do. And I love him, forever.

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