Praise jesus for my new boat!
What a pretty sunset...
And the best part of our day...
There were a ton of ballons and the windows were down...
Finally, at some point, which is unknown to me, I drift off to sleep. During REM, I have dreams; weird dreams. For example, I'm married to Larry the Cable Guy, and he gets fatter and more disgusting by the second as we sit at McDonalds... where Matt works. I make out with Matt in the bathroom and ask to borrow money. Strange... I told you.
I can drink this apple cider and stare out the window... praying, praying that no one in blue uniform ever approaches. I can hold my breath as I walk to answer a knock or ring of the doorbell... I can release when it's just the neighbor with banana bread, or a margarita. I can relax.
I can hide in the shadows for only so long... soon, the sun will beam with the light of our own lover's shadow...
Here's to peaceful rest.
A day without distraction is like Earth without the sun. Without the sun, there'd be no sunrises or sunsets. There would be no green or brown; no red or blue. Stars wouldn't be something to marvel. They'd always be there... they might even hide. The world would have more electric light, more gas powered equipment... so, the stars would hide. We wouldn't notice when one burned out. No one would look up. A day without distraction is a day without you; uselss, somber, and unimportant.
I can't wait to hold him... but, mostly... I can't wait to be held. The slightest touch in an elevator... a brush of someone's forearm... is enough to remind me of Matty's hand. I breathe deep, close my eyes, breathe out, and finish the day. Somedays I am dangerously close to the edge... the edge of what remains uncertain. I am faithful, loyal, and hopefully, respectful and appropriate. I know what he would and would not like... I try to stay between the lines in this coloring book of life. Sometimes, though, I screw up the outline... but the pictures is always worth saving.
My Traveling Soldier is on the road.
I've become a master eye reader. It's interesting to see a person's mood change in the "blink of an eye", literally. Whether it be from happiness to despair, contentment to absolute bliss, computing to understanding or sadness to joy... it's all displayed in a person's eyes. Words can lie, but eyes always tell the truth. I've tried to control my own eyes in the past, but soon realized this is pointless. I just let them be... and they tell stories for me. I love not saying what need not be said because my eyes do it for me. Even when someone glances to the side or up in the sky, millions of things are revealed. What your eyes say, or don't say, make mystery difficult, yet leave lingering longing in the balance.
My eyes long to see a certain someone you've come to know as "Matty".
If anyone watched American Idol last night... yes, I'm guilty. I record it, though... I fast forward just to see what the judges say; except Paula, I can't stand her. "You're a star!" "You move me!" That time she cried... Jesus!
Anyway... I have a few favorites including Elliot Yamin. He sang "Home" by Michael Buble last night. I much prefer the way Elliot sang it (although, Michael is a bit of a hottie) to this version on myspace: ttp://www.myspace.com/michaelbubleunofficial. But it is a great song. The lyrics are below.
Well, you can imagine why I like the song. Of course, it reminds me of Matty. I wonder if he feels this way; I wonder what he'd blog had he the time. I would like to read that, I think.
I talked to him on Monday. His batalion is getting ready for a big move. He says it's a good move; that they will be safer. He also said they've been doing an outstanding job, and that he'd tell me about it sometime after he got out of the Army. I agreed that to be fair. He said he's mad about the things he's missed... I said to him, "Honey, when I think about your deployment, I do think about how sad I am that you're not here, and how scared I get that you may never be here. But, mostly, I don't focus on what we are missing. Rather, I think about all the great adventures we shall have when you return home." Compared with forever, a year is nothing.
Another summer day
has come and gone away
In Paris or Rome...but I wanna go home...uhm Home
may be surrounded by
a million people I
still feel all alone
just wanna go home
I miss you, you know
And I've been keeping all the letters
that I wrote to you,
Each one a line or two
I'm fine baby, how are you?
I would send them but I know that it's just not enough
My words were cold and flat
And you deserve more than that
Another aeroplane, another sunny place,
I'm lucky I know
but I wanna go home
I got to go homeLet me go home
I'm just too far from where you are
I wanna come home
And I feel just like I'm living
someone else's life
It's like I just stepped outside
when everything was going right
And I know just why you could not come along with me
This was not your dream
but you always believed in me...
Another winter dayHas come and gone away
in either Paris or Rome
and I wanna go home
Let me go home
And I'm surrounded by
A million people I
still feel alone
Let me go home
I miss you , you know
Let me go home
I've had my runbaby I'm done
I gotta go homeLet me go home
it'll all be alright
I'll be home tonight
I'm coming back home
Sometimes, I drink too much wine, and I have a desire so great for chocolate that I'm willing to walk where ever I can to get come peanut butter cups (then again, I gave up PB... right...). Other times, I drink just enough, and it's makes me ponder the great possibilities that are this life. This life... what a strange concept. This life I have... who ever thought? Certainly none of you; those of you that know me, anyway. Well, this life is good, tough... but, who's life is easy, right? I should be so lucky. I have become impatient with those in my life who I expect certain things from; those I've been close to in the past; those I wish I were still close to, but can't seem to find common ground anymore. I expect support. Maybe that's irrational of me. I can't expect everyone to value what I value just because they are friends or even, family. No, I can't. I can only expect understanding... or can I? I'm unsure what the proper protocol is... what I should say, do, act like so that they don't feel uncomfortable because they have no words for me. Why does everyone think I need their words? Because conception is lacked... I guess. Because it's easy to put something out of your mind when it doesn't stare you in the face each morning. When you don't live something everyday, say paralysis, for example, it's natural to want to offer your help or sympathy when it isn't necessary. But, I'm sure, even people who need it the most get tired of being treated like a sick creature... as if they'd break were one word to be spoken of their condition or situation. As if I'm that fragile...
Be there, or don't... it's that simple.
I guess it takes something, such as this, for a person to realize whom she/he can count on. I know now.
wine in hand and craving chocolate,
Vanessa
As May and Spring smile their pretty eyes at me... I'm realizing... this is our time. We are best in sun and surf and sand and swim. The summers are ours... Winter belongs to the weather and fall is for change. The hard part is now. The longer this drought of him lasts the more dehydrated I become. I need saturation... I need over saturation. I'll have my time soon. I'll repeat my motto: No news is good news because bad news travels fast; I am strong... I am stronger. We are stronger.
I will wait. I am waiting.
Tonight... does not deserve a name. It is the same. The same as any other night. I am still here, alone. I still repeat myself. I am drinking wine (I don't do that every night), I am feeling sentimental... and I am thinking of Matty... tonight is no different; it does not deserve its own name.
This life of mine... it is my own. I do not ask for sympathy; I do not even ask for thankfulness of my husband's (and his family's) sacrifice; I ask not that you sigh when I am sad. This life is mine. I chose this life, and it is mine. I would not give it up. I would not trade this life. I would not trade Matty. All I ask... just as any other human would want... is my sacrifices, my struggles, my pain... my longing, not be minimized. It is offensive to assume you have it harder than any other person... I do not have it harder than most... but, I do know what wanting is... I do know what waiting feels like... I do know what patience means. Few people know what being patient truly means. I once thought of myself as patient; I was wrong. I am patient now. I could wait years... and I am... waiting, wanting, being patient... for one longing year. I shall wait with optimistic fright, but love.
Tonight has no name. It is another night amongst many... a sea of nights drenched in hopeful romanticism... drowning in longing, lonely love.
I would, will, wait. The days are quick and the nights are as plenty as they are slow...
*Vanessa*
It's been 132 days of faceless conversation... of imagination... of wondering, waiting, hoping...
I saw him tonight. It was not what I expected. There was a long delay and voice was distorted... but, when he smiled, because of the delay, it paused on his face for moments... his beautiful smile... so sexy, so raw... so him. I found myself speechless... all I could think of how he hasn't changed a bit... he's still Matty... he's still mine.
Those 10 minutes of exchange, interupted by the playing of "Taps", were grand. Yet, it's another reminder of how far away he really is from me. He sat in a plain room with a blue stripe across the wall... only him... him and his smile and a white streak running through his hair... exactly how I remember him.
I shall dream plenty tonight.
Vanessa
Tomorrow will be 14 days since he's called. Tomorrow will be 131 days he's been gone.
The days cruise by and the nights, linger. I look at the clock and it's still 22:19... 22:19... 22:19... always... it's always 22:19.
Tomorrow is Friday. Tomorrow I should see his face, his smile... for the first time in 131 days. Tomorrow I will be content... for a time; for an undisclosed length of time. I have to be content; I don't know when I'll get satisfaction, again. I do know... he'll be home. He'll be home and we'll jog, cycle, watch movies, eat out, eat in... everything will be together; for an undisclosed length of time.
I wonder if he knows... if he knows I wait for him. I'll always wait for him. I'd climb volcano after volcano to add minutes to his calling card. I've repeated and repeated the last message he left on my voicemail... even though he sounds sad because I missed his call. I keep pressing "9" for "save this message". I'll always save him.
I'll always. 22:24...
she’s flying over head
casting her gaze on the helpless
thousands of stars dead
her object is clear and fixed
she’ll make it there tonight
even if day and night switch
even if this is her last flight
her hope is rigid and undone
as she rest with the moon
her glaze mirrors the sun
and he knows she approaches soon
but as struggling nebulas race
after dissolving wind
and she’s slowed her rate of pace
his confidence wallows thin
and she’s lost and faith’s gone
Aurora gleams and falters
off with the last
pink cloud in Dusk’s sky
it happened too fast
right in front of you and I
The
comet
died.
© 2006 Vanessa McGraw- All Rights Reserved
So, it's Saturday. I haven't "blogged" in a while. I thought maybe my fan base was disappointed. I don't want to let you little geeks down . Well, fret not; there won't be long draining sentences of deployment woe or hesitant optimism in this blog. There will, though, be hope dashed with a bit of fear, as usual. And don't be surprised if there's dirty talk. Leave me alone; Matty's been gone almost 4 months. It's all I have .
I talked with my loving, sweet-as-ever husband today. He's so great. He makes me laugh until milk comes out my nose or an unexpected fart is let go and is louder than anticipated. I had not heard his voice in about eight or so days. This whole experience is making me a stronger person, I hope. It's made realize what I want, who I want it with, and how I want it. It sounds dirty doesn't it? Well, it is. HA. Just kidding... or am I? I can't wait for our lives to be back together. We are still sharing a life only we are sharing it from 7,364 miles apart. And he's carrying a gun and stuff.
My voice is really raspy today. It's from all the screaming I did... oh wait, that was only in my dreams. I guess it's just that strep throat from last week. In June, it will be from screaming. Don't call me then; I'll be screening. If you hadn't guessed (you're dumb, jk) Matt will be home. That will be a glorious time. I was thinking maybe we'd go see a natural wonder like Big Bend or the Grand Canyon, but I decided we'll make our own natural wonder (not a baby, yet). I can't wait, but I have to wait; it will be soon.
There's always fear. I always have fears, but I deal. I deal and I dwell... I try to not do the latter as much. It happens. It's accepted; though not as welcome. My family and friends help so, so much. Jayel... I know you have your own things to deal with; I know you try to feed your boys, hold the phone with no hands, and listen to me cry or bitch every now and then. Thank god we have free Sprint-to-Sprint. I'm thankful. I'm grateful. I hope it shows. I love you.
Yvonne and Sandra came all the way to poopie Killeen to see my lazy butt. It was cool. We watched a movie, ate spicy small fat burgers and made margaritas. They show concern and sincere love to me when I need it most desperately. They are truly great friends. I cherish them both. Plus, they help me burn those extra 1,000 calories when we go out dancing!
I can't leave out Zora. She might cry in the corner if I don't mention her soon. I love her smiling, happy, drooling little face. Without that wagging tail awaiting my every move, I just don't know what I would do. I'd be mighty lonely. I do love having someone to nurture.
Let us not forget the ever handsome Matty. My love. I can't imagine when I didn't know you. Was there ever such a time? In my eyes, we've always been together, even when we were apart. He calls when he can, hides his own fear of his surroundings to help me stay strong; keeps his cool; keeps some normalcy in conversation; writes me sweet, sweet letters; hopefully, sends pictures soon ; and tells me he loves me a million times over. I love you more than having the nicest grass on the block (and you know that's my pride and joy). Compared with forever, a year is nothing.
Tortuous it is to constantly wonder what your beloved is thinking. Doomed to be a woman, my nature insists I satisfy every craving for information. "What are you thinking" "Do you love me" "Do you trust me"... blah, blah. It's a fate I didn't ask for, but nevertheless, I am left with. Face to face with someone you care for, it is difficult to express emotion... thousands of miles away only increases misunderstandings and leads me to linger further. Losing love is tragic... not losing, but delaying love and it's uncertainty is disheartening.
I guess, I'm stuck with this bottle of wine, keyboard, and "The Fray" CD. Classic Vanessa.
Today is the infamous Zora's birthday. She's a whole year old. I don't know where the year went. She's still tiny; still scared of plastic bags, the bed covers, the washer, loud noises, people she doesn't know, her shadow (I could go on forever); and just as sweet as ever. She's been so good to me since Matty left. She turns in circles when I get home from a long day... she's so happy to see me. She follows he around the house (like Matty used to) and lives and breathes on my every move. It's nice to still have someone around that needs me. Anyway, happy birthday to my not-so-little, little girl, Zora!
I'm such a tortured soul. I've been in and out of disappointment and now the worst has befallen this tragic hero. You've saturated my fat cells far too long. At first, I thought our little indiscretions were just between you and me but, I've come to realize our sorted relationship has become 2-4 pounds of excess baggage. I'm ending my love affair with you, PB. It's was as great as it was long. But, the time has come... I will miss those picnics in the park, with you, Jelly and Whole Wheat. I'll never forget how you comforted me on a spoon or melted on a piece of warm Whole Wheat. You and Honey made such an excellent pair, all gooey and dripping. Cookies, snack bars, shakes, ice cream, biscotti... the list goes on and on. In pure form, you've melted my taste buds past satisfaction. I can't even think about you and Chocolate; he will almost miss you as much as I. Apple, Celery and Cracker all bid you farewell but, it is not as bitter and un-sweet as the kiss I give you goodbye. I will forever treasure the hunger you quenched. For all these and many more reasons I must offer a parting peck. For the hour is past in which you take your excess calories to the trash... Adieu!
I don't know why but, I feel very contemplative tonight. As if every little event matters. I'm almost pondering the very meaning of life, without reason really. As I gaze at the latest picture of my deployed loved one, his grey streak of hair and brilliant smile stand out like burning lava among common rock. I can tell who's taken the picture. Someone he loves very much is the only person who could make him smile as if the corners of his mouth were without limit. It's a picture I can't help but stare at. I'm so in love and so far from my devoted one. 7364 miles seems endless but, his distance from my heart is nothing more than a pin drop. It's insignificant size matters not. I feel his love in me growing as a blooming flower in Spring. I'm half way through the first month of 2006 and accelerating through this strenuous year of doubt and tenebrous nights. I only hope I can delay grief until my love's return when I will abolish sadness... 47 days and not counting...
I have the cutest nephews. I hope I can turn out some cute as kids also. I don't want to be the one in the family that people are like, "Oh, dear, what a um... cute kid." And then, they go home and night and talk about how ugly my kids are.
It's finally hit me. Life without my husband. It only took 41 days. Wow... harder than I contemplated. I actually never really sat around thinking, "Shit, what am I gonna do for 12-14 months without my husband?" I really only said to myself, "Look, it's going to happen. Deal." It made it easier to deal, I guess. Either that or I just put off dealing with the situation. As I age I realize how good I am at different things. Procrastination, I got from my mother. I could never reach her level, though. Now, that he is gone, I am forced to deal with my lonely solitude, alone. It prompts the question: What else can't I handle alone? If he remains in the Army, he's bound to end up deployed to Iraq or Iran or Korea or some far off land and I am bound to have a kid or two or one in the oven... and again, I'm alone. Maybe this time i'll deal better. Maybe I'll learn my lesson... nah... Another thing I got from my mother. One thing I got from my father, when it gets to hard, get out. I can't do that. I love my husband. I broke down on the phone with him today. I've needed that once a week phone call for days now. I've kept my cool for so long, I couldn't help it. I hate doing that to him. The last thing he needs to worry about is his poor sad wife at home. Oh poo. This all causes far too much wine consumption. At least I have my puppy... sweet Zora.
