Wednesday, 7 July 2010

do or die...

So… Sunday I was a mess, so emotionally fraught as I sauntered around the kitchen in the back of Bar One that I cried when Nick merely joked that one of my stories was boring. Not a fake cry, but an actual, genuine weep. I have not been THAT emotionally strained in ages… so bad that I couldn’t keep myself from crying when one of my good friends is poking a little fun at me. I literally just couldn’t control the tears as they kept on coming, and the more people tried to calm me down the more hysterical and emotional I got. It was pathetic and whilst I can laugh about it now, I was genuinely mess in the heat of the moment. 

That very special weep-fest came as a result of many things… things which I will list right here, right now in an effort to both process my feelings and also to just let everyone know where I am.

Womb… ahh, yes. The age-old excuse for every woman’s emotional issues, her monthly visitor. Luckily, MY monthly visitor was ACTUALLY visiting at the time. she had knocked on my door, brought in all her luggage and set up camp in my body and made me feel all bloaty, weepy, fragile and generally pathetic. My womb is acting-up an extra-special amount this month, as well, which makes life just SO MUCH fun for everyone. I’ve never in my life felt so fat, never once before cried because I broke a nail and never DREAMED that I would offer such a display as I did to Pow… the display, which he says was “cute” featured me cooking dinner and then curling-up on the sofa into a tiny, pathetic ball of emo and whimpering periodically when something distressed me (ie. a bird flying too close to the window, someone displaying poor acting skills on the films we were watching or Pow’s toe poking me ever-so-slightly in the calf.). I am now over the worst of the womb issues, but still feel slightly fragile, so watch out! 

Muffin… so, I’ve not heard his voice since last Wednesday. That’s the first point. The second point is that I am a needy loose-cannon who needs to get a freaking grip. Let me walk you through the timeline of the last week:  
Wednesday… we talk and it’s nice but extremely brief due to me being the most stupidly busy bee in the world.
Thursday all his computers are taken away and we don’t get to talk at all… two emails and a Skype text telling me he loves me.
Friday is the same.
Saturday he leaves Iraq in the wee hours of the morning and I do not hear from him at all.
Sunday I do not hear from him at all.
Monday I wake up to an email from him and immediately hate myself (as I accidentally woke up early for work but decided to writhe around in bed rather than actually get up, the time I awoke was JUST at the same time that he emailed me)… the email tells me he loves me and that he found some free internet on his phone so he thought he’d say hi. In the evening he posts a hello on my Facebook wall letting me know he’s in germany.
Tuesday I get a text from him at 0622 telling me he’s landed in America and is very tired.
The end. Nothing else. Since yesterday morning I have seen many of the soldiers that he travelled with get on Facebook, send emails and generally have contact with the world… nothing from Muffin. Not a peep. So this is where me being needy comes in. I worry. I worry worse than anyone else I have ever met (eg. If someone says they’re gonna be at mine for 1800, the instant 1805 ticks past, I am freaking out, imagining that they have been in a horrible car accident or have blown me off to go hang out with someone else.) I am irrational and out of control and my mind is racing in a billion different directions right now. Did he die on the car journey from the airport to his house? Has he decided to get back with Karri? Did he and Karri get into a horrible fight and did she murder him or kill herself resulting in a series of investigations and/or hospital/mortuary visits? Is he sleeping? I’ve no idea… all I bloody know is that he’s not responding to the texts I send; I am worried and generally quite fraught. I would be happy with just one little email or update… even if he sent an update to Facebook on his mobile… just something so I know he’s alive. So, danie’s an emotional and worried train-wreck, which is NOT helping my general mental state. 

Pow… every single tiny day that passes makes me love him more and want to leave less. At the end of every day I lie in my bed and realize that he is so totally my best friend and has been a huge source of strength for me for so long… who wants to lose that? The time I spend with him is just so special to me… it makes my heart swell when we spend time cooking or working on our crafts together. I love coming home every day to hear about all the new breakthroughs he’s had with Johnny whilst I’ve been at work. I adore seeing the confused and disapproving looks that our friends give us when we are together, being generally out-of-control and happy, because I KNOW that what he and I have is so much more special than anything most people will ever find in their lifetimes. The bond that he and I have is so huge and magical… he’s my best friend and knows me so well… and I know him so well. We take care of one another and thrive off of one another and I hate thinking of not having that in my life for thirteen months. He’s just amazing, that’s all I can really say…

Nick… I love him. I love him and I hate that we didn’t start hanging out sooner. I look at his beautiful little face and just want to cuddle him forever. I want to bake for him constantly and make him smile. Lately he’s just seemed so sad and I hate it when people I love are sad. I worry about him. I worry that he feels lonely. I worry that he doesn’t get enough face-time with people that ACTUALLY love him. I worry that he isn’t as happy as he deserves to be. I know it isn’t my job to make everyone happy all the time, but with Nick, I feel like he has spent a lot of time making me extra-ordinarily happy and I really want to offer the same back to him. in the short time he and I have been bonding he has made my life so much better… he’s made my smiles bigger and my nights out drunker and I could never thank him enough for that. 

My Family… the pensiveness has begun. The thinking about what it’s going to be like when I get home… how my sisters are going to react to the changes that I have made in my life, both physically and mentally. I would LIKE to think that they would be happy for me because I am their little sister and I am happier than I have been in years, but a part of me reckons that they will see that I’ve got more tattoos, bigger holes in my ears and a boyfriend that they are not the biggest fans of and reject me. I’m not typically the type of person who needs approval from people. I don’t tend to go out of my way to seek out acceptance; but with my sisters… it’s so much different. I spent so many years from my youth feeling so inadequate because of my ideals, morals and the fact that we have different fathers, so when I see myself now, I would like to think that they will see that I have grown-up into a fairly respectable person who’s had excellent jobs, is now a dual-national and is happier than she ever dreamed it was possible to be. Again, I don’t see this happening, so I am just getting horrifically nervous about what it will be like. What they will say, how they will react to Muffin, if they will come to our wedding. Urgh! Family! 

Moving… good god. It’s fifty days away. In seven weeks I will be preparing to get on a plane… packing my bags and hugging all my favourites for the last time for a while. What the fuck? How am I going to cope with that? I am becoming more and more terrified of it… of leaving. I am so scared that I will completely lose myself when I leave… that I will lose myself and that Muffin is thinking of not coming back with me. I am absolutely mortified that he is planning on dropping the massive bombshell on me that says he simply cannot leave america… this terrifies me because I can’t be away for forever. I need to be here, this is my home. the thought of being away from here for more than a year, maybe eighteen months, actually hurts… it physically hurts.
But I’m not just terrified… I am both excited and terrified. Like, I am SO superpumped to see what it will be like to live with Muffin… so excited to see how many kisses we will be able to fit into a day and how many cuddles we’ll have. I can’t WAIT to have his arms, voice and body within arm’s reach at most given moments… to finally have all of this rubbish ocean malarkey out of the way and to just be able to be with one another. I honestly can’t wait. No matter how scared I am, I know that what I will feel when I finally get to go and be with him with no pending date for departure will be so, so much bigger and make any doubts, worries and whatever else my mind can conjure completely disappear. He’s my world and I can’t wait to actually start my life with him.


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