Doubt Full

So I took a break for a little while, mostly because I'm tired of writing, talking and thinking about the truck situation. It's been in the shop for a month now and I'm not really sure we're any closer to having it running than the last time I wrote. It took them two weeks to finally get a diagnostic on it and now at the end of the third week they are finally putting on one of the parts the diagnostic said was malfunctioning. The other part is being Fed-Exed by my dad and should be here tomorrow or Saturday. The shop said we may not even need it. Fingers crossed for that outcome, but even if we do have to put the other part on the truck should be back to us by next weekend, which means we should be able to pick up my parents with it. The asshole we bought it from still hasn't called us, but we're waiting to stir things up again until the truck is fully fixed and we have the full cost of everything. My grandfather is sending a check for school this week; sadly that money will probably go toward the stupid fucking truck. I would have given anything to be in Idaho with all these problems, or just back in the states. At least then we could have gotten a real fucking vehicle and not just something to hold us over. It's when we have to settle for things that we always end up getting screwed. I think I've worked it out so we won't have to dip into our savings account just yet. With any luck we'll get the full amount allowed refunded for my tuition in our taxes. I just really hope the money situation works itself out before June. Our Christmas trip hasn't even started and I'm already stressing about the price of tickets to fly home for Roger's brother's high school graduation. I'm going to be so pissed if we spend $2500 to go back home and his family treats us like shit again.

Roger is making me feel like shit all the time these days. If he's not being nasty to me because I'm not interested in sex then he's making rude jokes that hurt my feelings and make me feel like I'm stupid or useless or just plain unloved and that doesn't make me want to have sex with him any more than before. I feel ugly and he just expects me to fuck him so he's happy. He can't put any effort in to make me feel beautiful or loved. He only tries when he wants to get me in bed and that is only ten seconds before I'm expected to spread my legs. When he's been insulting me all day long it doesn't exactly work. I don't know what the fuck his problem is. I'm too tired to fight with him about it anymore and at this point I just really wish he'd get his act together because my parents are going to be here in a week and a half and I don't want to be bickering through our entire EuroTrip.

You Don’t Know How it Feels…To Be Me

I've been all twisted up inside for the last few days. It may have to do with my period making me overly emotional, but I can't shake the tension in my chest. Roger has been courageously dealing with the truck situation, but I'm still having dreams about it and thinking about it all the time. I'm so terrified that all the hard work I've done to get our savings to what it is will be destroyed by this guy. Then there's those other things gnawing at my brain to worry me. Today is the day of our house inspection. Last week we got a letter from Balmforth saying they wanted to inspect the house. I think it's pretty awkward considering we've been here for a year and a half. We spent most of our weekend scrubbing and painting and mowing. I hadn't really cleaned the house since the accident so it was due for it anyway. Everyone always tells us we have nothing to worry about because even when we think our house is a mess it is still very presentable. But this is our letting agency and they are greedy, untrustworthy, generally scummy people. They wouldn't be here if they weren't looking for something.

Then there's the school thing, which I've decided to totally give up on. I spent all that time fighting with my teacher, fighting with the system and it's just not worth my effort any more. I'm going to take an F, take a two month break and start over in January. It'll be a new year and hopefully I'll have some better luck. I'm really hoping that the trip goes well. That is the only other thing on my mind. It's time to run the last numbers for hotel costs so my parents can wire us the rest of the money and it's almost time to start making reservations; dinner at the Moulin Rouge, dinner at the Eiffel Tower, massages in Germany, wine tasting in Rome, guided tours. The list goes on I'm sure.

Things with Roger and I have evened out I suppose. It's been a while since we've had sex. I don't remember if we have at all since that Halloween party. He told me that he would take a break from drinking, but of course when the weekend came he was asking if he could drink some screwdrivers. Not being able to hold back, I snapped a nasty comment about how he could go have a few with Tiffany if he liked and I think he got the point. It maybe wasn't the best way to start the evening, but I really think he should have known better. We went to a BBQ at the Ross' on Saturday and he only had a single beer. I doubt this will go on for long, but I'll be happy if he can at least keep it like this through the holidays.

Gheez, the holidays. They hadn't even crossed my mind until just now. Roger mentioned the Flight Christmas party yesterday, but it barely registered. I wonder if I can even fit into that dress I bought earlier this year? Roger always gets upset about Thanksgiving and Christmas because I feel like I need to cook a lot. I make pies and cakes and cookies and the whole Turkey dinner spread and then we get stood up by the Kegley's and all our left-overs go to waste because Roger won't take a lunch to work. This year I don't have to worry about Christmas. We'll be on a ferry boat in the Adriatic Sea on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. I do need to come up with a menu for my parents while they are here. It's for sure that we'll be cooking steak and crab, but my dad is sensitive to pasta so my great manicotti and lasagna are probably out of the question. Roger is in love with my meatloaf now so maybe that will be on the list and the Shake n Bake chicken we've become fond of. Maybe someone will actually invite us to their place this year. Or maybe we'll just do steak and crab for two on Thanksgiving. Or maybe it will be just like any other day. 2007 hasn't really treated us well anyway.

Nauseated

A little while ago we got back from this year's Halloween party. I cried the entire way home. Roger never noticed because he was passed out in the passenger's seat due to the fact that he'd been slamming beer after beer since six o'clock. Now I'm downstairs on the couch with a blanket and my feather pillow feeling like my heart has been torn out. Roger has no idea because he is passed out on our bed. At the very least I avoided a fight, and tonight it would have been a world ending fight which would probably left me bruised again. I chose not to drink at the party because I knew there was a keg, and I knew that meant that no matter how much he promised, he would drink at least half its contents. So I sat back and did the whole Passive Jessica thing that I have to do when times like these come up. Things were okay at first. Then Crystal and Haylee showed up and I had someone to talk to, and for once they were caring and supportive and interested. As the night went on and Roger became more and more inebriated I began dreading what would happen once I got him home. Haylee noticed the zoned out look on my face and all she had to do was ask what was wrong for me to dump the whole thing on the table. Out of earshot of anyone else I told her how he'd bruised me and how he picks fights, and when she suggested that I just get out of the house or lock myself in the bathroom I told her the stories about broken doors and how he has held me down and choked me to keep me from leaving. All the while I'm noticing how he's getting to close to the single females at the party. It was just a little dancing at first, close enough to make me nervous but far enough away to keep me from making a scene. Then I notice some girl leading him inside by the hand. I find out later from Crystal that more dancing went on and Haylee made a smooth save by pulling Roger backwards just as Devil Skank was about to put her arms around his neck. Around eleven thirty I was on my way to the restroom, I pass the stairway & hear giggles. I look up and what do I see but my husband kissing Devil Skank on the stairs. But I don't scream and I don't pull her down by her curls and curb stop her in the front of the house like I should have. At that moment I felt the last little piece of whatever I've been holding onto this month slip away. I went numb. I didn't even tell him we had to leave that instant. I waited around patiently for another half hour before asking him very nicely to wrap it up.

What did I do to deserve all this? All this crap in one single month? And the final blow is witnessing my husband kiss some blonde bitch?

Now I don't feel anything. I feel alone. I feel like all my nightmares have finally come true.

Asleep with a Knife

What a way to start off my morning. As if last week weren't bad enough. I lost the Honda, then the FTO died (but is now fixed at the cost of $700), we found a BMW but it was already sold, we figured that we could afford the Neon, and the day we freaking call it's sold too, Matt spilled a whole glass of red wine on our carpet & down the wall last night. Can't this week just be good? I'm already trapped in the house having to force myself to deal with my school bullshit. But I had to have this dream. I was driving a black Mustang, the same style as the one my parents were supposed to give me. I had Lorelei, of all people, in the car with me & we were going down highway 95. I was trying to get over into the left lane because the one we were in was becoming a turn lane and these two semi trucks were being assholes to me. One wouldn't let me over and the other was totally on my ass. Finally I thought I could get over but the semi in that lane sped up and I ended up merging into his wheel. We got away fine and came back to the scene in my old black truck. Apparently this whole thing caused a multi-car pileup and for some reason or another Matt was there in uniform with about five other guys as if he were investigating it. Lorelei was going to go tattle on me so I called him over before she could get to him. He hopped into my truck and flung down the bag from Prison Break with that five million dollars in it. Then he told me not to worry even though it wasn't five million anymore it was still a lot and we were going to be just fine. Then some lady came up to the truck and started harassing me because I'd caused the accident which attracted the attention of some investigator who noticed my truck had a big wheel shaped dent in it and proceeded to blame the whole incident on me. I was following her around defending myself all the while random people were walking up to me and bitching about the money I owed them for destroying their vehicles. The last thing I remember was standing in a mall wishing I was back in England! Ha! But it's not even funny. It's stressful and it wasn't the thing I wanted in my head right when I woke up. To be honest I'm not even sure what I was going to do today. It's all work. The dishes from last night's dinner, make the bed, all the laundry, probably fill out paperwork for the insurance company and paperwork for my class and the financial aid they should have sent me in fucking September.

God help me find some peace in all this.

Can I Sell this Sunrise for another Sunset?

I get into a head on collision and it's up to Roger to take care of everything now. It's his responsibility to worry about what everything costs, getting the insurance information, making sure we have copies of statements and police reports, and me. Most of all me. And you know what? I'm a total wreck, almost as much of a wreck as my poor Honda only I don't think anyone is going to send me to be crushed. Roger has been totally unreliable. And I get that he's just as stressed as I am. His car decided to die the very next day, but it's just the alternator. It's fixable and we will probably have it back this afternoon. My car is GONE, completely totaled all because some jerk mechanic decided to take a customer's Corvette for a joyride. Physically I'm fine. My shoulder is in quite a bit of pain and my whole right arm is extremely weak, but Roger has been too drunk to really take care of me. I know my injuries are nothing compared to when he broke his jaw, but I'm completely broken emotionally speaking and he's no help. I was there and I was strong for him and I spoiled him and said nothing to upset him. All he can do is drink and it's irresponsible and completely unhelpful.

Last night he got into the history on my AOL and found a bunch of porn sites. I don't have very good internet security because I never renewed my subscriptions, so I get pop ups a lot. But I don't think about it. It's just porn and I'm a grown up and just exit out of the screen. I put a pop up blocker on my Internet Explorer and they've pretty much gone away, but for some reason they're showing up on the AOL browser. So last night while he's drunk and I'm feeling like slitting my wrists in the bathtub he finds these sites and his mind immediately jumps to "my wife is a lesbian." I called him upstairs to join me in the bubble bath because I was seriously considering trying to drown myself and he finally joins me only to act like a total jerk, questioning why I'm taking a bath to relax if I'm already tired and I could just go to bed. Then he has me get out after only five minutes, brushes his teeth and starts grilling me about the porn on my computer and asking me if I'm a lesbian and if I'd rather masturbate to women on the internet than have sex with him. All of which is just fucking stupid and I can hardly handle it in my current emotional state. And, okay, if I'd found gay porn on his computer when he was lying in bed high on liquid codeine with a broken jaw, I'd be pretty curious about what the fuck was going on, but I don't think I would be such a bitch about it. He actually admitted that he was going to fuck me and then bring up the porn. Who the fuck does that? This is seriously the man I'm married to? But then I have to remember that he's been drinking since 1 pm and then the question comes up again…is this seriously the man I married. I've been nothing but there for him through so many things. A broken jaw, a sprained ankle, the admission of something horrible he did when he was 11 and I've been supportive and have never brought the shit up and this is how he is here for me? This is such bull shit!

My mom wrote him an e-mail last night demanding that he go get my kitty back. I've even asked too. I don't want another car now. I don't even think I could drive for a few more months at least. But I know for a freaking fact that if I had that cat back, if he were here to sleep on my lap or snuggle with me on the couch that I would feel better. I totally wouldn't be examining sharp objects and wondering if Roger would really care if I drug one across my wrist. I wouldn't be eyeing the last five Valiums and debating if I should take them all at once. When Roger broke his jaw it took me a long time to let go of that feeling that he wouldn't be okay if I let him out of my sight. It only lasted one day for him. I got one single day of shoulder massages and hand holding and snuggling on the couch before everything went right back to "hey, Jessica you're not giving me enough sex." No fucking shit dickhead! I was just in a pretty major accident, I'm stressed beyond all belief, somewhat contemplating a suicide attempt because of your lack of support and you think that "getting a nut off" (as he put it) is going to be appealing to me? Fuck you!

If Looks Could Really Kill then My Profession would be Starring

I'm starting to get over the heartbreak of giving up the kitty. Every now and then I've been attacking Roger though. I just keep thinking about his stupid car. Or maybe it's because I've been spending my days trying to shop the hole in my heart full again and in the process I've been buying his birthday presents. I'm finally falling into my weekly routine though and my workouts are going better. I think the endorphins from exercising are the only thing keeping me from falling into a full on depression most days. The scale read 140 on Monday. I almost cried. I've never been too conscious about my weight, but that number just fucking blows. So now I've been all critical of how much I'm eating, which is totally wrong. I should be more concerned with what I'm eating not how much. I got somewhat on the right track last night by making baked Italian chicken with stir fried veggies and rice. Roger absolutely loved it and I'm pretty sure I'll be making it at least once a week from now on. Tonight won't be so healthy. I'm reverting to my stock of Hamburger Helper as he'll be coming home late after work because of football practice.

I sat down to look at our finances yesterday thinking that may cheer me up, but of course it only stressed me out about our future because I can't just be happy that we could possibly have $70,000 in our savings when we finally move back to the states. I have to go and try to figure out if we'll be able to buy two brand new cars and a house, which we won't really be able to without living paycheck to paycheck and that is something I am happy to not be doing anymore. I should just sit here and be excited about our trip, excited to see my parents in 68 days, excited that we could potentially save $70,000 by June of 2009. $70,000. That is something I never would have imagined for myself before I turned 25. Not to mention having 3 fully paid off cars and being a world traveler by 23. I should be pretty excited about those things. Ha! And all without a college degree! But that still makes me a looser in some people's eyes. I guess I'm working on it. But it still really scares me about what happens next. If I estimated correctly I will have my Associates in Whatever by October next year. Then I'll take at least one more year off before starting on my Bachelors, hopefully in music..but I've been considering Music History or just History. I was always good at History. I was better at playing the flute though. Great, I'm back to stressing about the future again. I need to just be happy right now. Happy to go make the bed and start some laundry and do the dishes and tidy up the living room and get my ass dressed and do my hair. Then maybe I'll treat myself to jewelry shopping at the BX. Some fake pearls would be great and maybe some new earrings and hey, I've got a new CD to listen to. See things are looking up already.

I Would Love Nothing More in the World than to Watch You as You Spill Your Guts

How is it only three o'clock? I feel like I've been all over today. I suppose at least it is Friday though. I think I'm done crying over the kitty. I went to pick up our tickets for Phantom of the Opera and had to sit and talk with Haylee and Crystal about him. That was kind of hard. I'm still pretty upset at Roger. We could have made it work, especially with his pay going up soon and the cars being paid off even sooner. I'm mad at myself though too. It's not all his fault. If I'd pouted a little more or not given into the idea of giving him away, Roger would have eventually caved. It's all cold and rainy today. The house is freezing. Last night I cooked dinner in sweats with a blanket wrapped around my waist. It was rather difficult. I'm determined not to turn the heat on until the first of October, which is only Monday. I can last two and a half more days. Then I promised myself I would order more oil which will top off the tank and we shouldn't have to worry about it again until the end of winter or spring, especially with our month long trip in December. Man, am I excited for that! I can't believe all the stuff we are going to see and do. Maybe this is like, the millionth time I've said this, but it's no less true.

I have to say something mean about Roger. Sometimes he can be really dumb. And not in an obvious-to-everyone kind of way, but more of an I'm-a-genius-and-you've-now=made-it-painfully-obvious-you're-not kind of way. I really feel like I'm talking to a moron sometimes. I wish I could give you a prime example, but I can't remember WTF he did the other night that made me wonder why I'd married such an idiot. I just keep thinking of that Post Secret card that said something like "I'm so tired of dumbing things down for my boyfriend." I know sister. I'm there too.

Heartbreak Baby is Half the Fun

I am utterly miserable. I am so alone and so sad and Roger doesn't feel like doing anything to help. I don't know what's happened to him. He used to be able to think of the best thing to get my mind off of whatever was making me unhappy. When we were dating and my parents would upset me he knew just what to do. I don't know what he's so preoccupied with now that he can't take the time to make me smile. That little kitty was making me so happy and I didn't even realize because I was trying so hard to convince myself that I didn't need him. And now that he's gone there is this great big hole and I blame Roger because he didn't want to make the effort. He even said that he could see how happy the kitty was making me, but he couldn't be bothered to come up with a solution. He gets to have his stupid car and I'm saving all this money so we can ship the thing back to the states, but will he spend a little extra money so I can have a fury little friend? Will he make the effort to call the landlord or take the risk of just hiding him? No. And this is the time of year it would be perfect to have a kitty. And he was the perfect kitty to have.

So now I'm bawling and upset and totally bored and Roger can't be bothered. It's so stupid to him that I'm this upset and he won't make any effort to make things better. Though I don't know if the only thing I will accept is to have my kitty back or if just some sign on help from him would be good. Last night he just sat there and watched a movie while I cried. I'm just so pissed at everything right now. Of course most of it boils down to the fact that we live in fucking England. At least if we were in the states I could go spend the day at the mall and shop myself happy with all the money we've got in savings. But I'm totally limited to the Internet and that is not good enough. I can't reach out and touch the fabrics or try things on to make sure they fit or if the color looks right with my hair. I can't even catch a hop back for a quick visit because my parents will be here in 75 days so it would be totally pointless…you know other than Olive Garden and Sonic and going to the mall and Target and Kohls and maybe seeing Chris, even though he cares less about my wellbeing than Roger does at this point. I don't think Roger understands that he's all I've got. I try way too hard with Crystal, Halley, and Amy. I really like them all, but I'm never invited out with them and anything I suggest is shot down. We can't even do group things with them because Roger is so annoyed with Beau.

I don't know what to do today. We're trying not to buy food until the big fridge is defrosted, which will probably be on Sunday. I'm not too thrilled about that. It is the day before pay day so maybe things will be stocked and there won't be that many people, but then it's Sunday and everyone and their screaming bratty kids have to get their groceries on Sunday. I'm sure it will be horribly uncomfortable. Maybe I will look up a new recipe to try and just buy the ingredients since we're out of real food. I think I'm going to order more tank tops from Old Navy and maybe another Hollister order. I'd love a new pair of jeans. I totally need to order Roger's watch. I should think of something to do for his birthday too. He's pretty good with my birthdays and I never feel like I measure up when it comes to doing things for him. So I guess I'm off to do some online shopping.

My Nightmare

The lights are bright and hot. There is a stifled cough from somewhere in the audience and the subtle clinks of metal and rustling of papers. Then, silence. The calm before the storm, the deep breath before the first beautiful chord echoes through the concert hall. My eyes dart across dots and lines, a language I've spent years learning, studying. I should be nervous, but my heart beats in three four time and I've never felt so at peace. I've never felt like I belonged somewhere more than I do right here on this stage with my fingers pressing purposefully down on keys and my breath flowing from me in a focused stream of air across a silver mouthpiece. We reach a peak, where the music swells so vividly you can feel the pain of the chord it in your soul..ouch! I'm brought from my daydream by a sippy cup to the back of the head. My hands are pruned from the soapy water where I've been washing dishes and a toddler sits fussing in his high chair, refusing to finish his lunch. I'm terrified that one day I will wake up to this reality. Trapped as a housewife full of day dreams of a life she could have had. Sure, I want the mortgage, and I want the sink full of dishes and soapy water. One day, I even want the fussy toddler. But nothing will ever give me as much purpose or meaning as when I have been on that stage, performing timeless classics, contributing to mezmerising chords, creating beautiful music. I may become many things in my life, but I will always consider myself a musician. I have studied and practiced music since I was twelve years old. It is one thing I can say I am really good at and incidentally, it is the one thing that has always defined me, given me purpose. I just hope that I will find a way to make my dream come true.

All By Myself

Roger is off on a FARP thing tonight and I'm all alone. I've been trying to reach the school all afternoon to get an update on my stupid instructor…but nothing. Either they're not answering or not returning my calls. I'm so over this school. After I'm finished with this class I'm going to take a break until January. I just can't bring myself to do my homework anymore. It's so annoying.

I don't think I'm going to do well here alone when/if Roger gets deployed. I mean, I want him to go before we PCS back to the states, otherwise they'll probably send him right away. But, I'm not doing so well here now, and now I'm sitting here waiting for him with my glass of wine and my pot of noodles. It's kind of sad. I'll have to go back if he gets deployed. It would be nice for a little while though. I'm sure I'd miss having my own things around me, but at least I'd be in America.

I think Roger is getting really upset about my lack of sex drive. I don't know what's up with me, I just don't get horny anymore. I can still orgasm and I'm still really attracted to him. I just feel so guilty about it now. Every time we do have sex it's because he guilts me into it, not because he makes me feel wanted. I feel like a jerk for turning down his lame advances, but I can't tell him that he has to work harder because he just doesn't get it. Like, hey, let's pick a time that isn't when we're going to bed. Let's light some candles and pour some wine and then call me upstairs for a massage. But he can't even massage me because his knees hurt. Boo hoo. It hurts me to do a lot of the things I do for him, but I do them because they make him feel good. Could it be so much to ask that he cater to my emotions and not my body for once? That's the real barrier lately. My emotions aren't in our sex anymore. My mind is always wandering when we're doing it and even if I try to focus he's just doing things wrong so if I even start to get close he starts moving in a different direction and then I lose it. Or he'll have to stop. Maybe even some music would be nice. It's like so many other things in our marriage though. I do it to make him happy and he's still angry at me for something. I don't know what to do.

There is a Room

There is a room in my house, filled with many things. Not all of them have their place or are necessarily put away. Some things don't belong in this room. Some things, you would not tell their importance to me by the way they are placed in this room. My flute is there, in it's case, sticking akwardly out of a box full of other random items. I haven't touched it in years. Years. How did that happen? You wouldn't know it if you walked into that room that I was a musician. That it was once the thing that kept me going each and every day. I was a fool to not have pushed myself harder. I was a fool to ever put that fine piece of nickel away. My heart breaks every time I hear classical music. I can't sit through ballets or operas or even a recording without being reminded of what I've given up, and for no particular reason. There has never really been a reason for me to stop playing. Just because I'm not a symphony member or a music student does not mean I should put my instrument away. It means I should be studying harder than ever before. I should be practicing to keep my edge. I should not be so negletful of something I cherish so much, of something that truly makes me the person I am.

Ew Ew Ew and a Couple Notes

I was just sitting here minding my own business when I noticed this moving shadow and when I looked up at the window to see…there was this HUGE fucking spider, seriously the biggest I've ever seen other than a tarantula. It's the one responsible for the giant web outside our office window. I still feel all creepy-crawly just thinking about the damn thing. Ick. Ick. Ick.

I was supposed to turn in an assignment on Sunday. I still haven't done it yet. I need to, but I don't even want to sign into my class because my instructor is such a cunt. I doubt the school is even going to do anything about her. All the instructors I've had have just been so disappointing. Either they just give you an A and let you glide right through with zero effort, or they refuse to give you any help and mark you down for unexplained reasons. I'm done trying to get a good grade. I need to just be happy with a passing one so I can finally take a break. After the next class I'll be halfway done. The sad thing is I'll have this random ass degree, and I still have no clue what I want to be. Flutist? Travel book writer? Beach bum? Housewife?

While I'm ignoring my school work I make use of my internet connection. I'm a totally shameless Myspace spy, or as Roger recently learned from the Urban Dictionary word-a-day, a my-spy. Because I can't say it anywhere else I need to get a couple things off my chest. Bethanie & Nick, you are DIVORCED, not single. Please display the appropriate option on your page. Denying what's happened just makes me & Roger more right than ever. You two are fucking stupid and should have lived your own lives instead of trying to copy ours. Christina, I really hate you. You don't deserve to have a baby. You really don't. You're a selfish brat that only wanted to get pregnant in the first place because the rest of your friends did, and now you only want a kid because the universe is telling you that you can't. I hope Brett is completely terrified of leaving you alone here. I know that you cheated on him during the first deployment and you will do it again.

I can't finish my breakfast because of that damned spider. God, it was horrible. I was going to get down the totes in the garage that have my sweaters & our big comforter in them, but after that thing I'm definitely too creeped out. I'm sure there are dozens of giant spiders hiding in our garage and I would just totally flip out. It's chilly today though. I can see the leaves on the tree in the backyard are turning orange. They're already thinning out toward the top. I guess I'll wait until the weekend for the sweaters so I can have Roger pull down the totes. I've got a nice, new hoodie on its way from Hollister now anyway.

The Truth

I've got another blog that I'm cheating on. It's the one that my mother reads, that a couple of my friends know about. It's the one I can't really confide in anymore. I can't talk about Matt's drinking and the bruises he left on my underarm two weekends ago. I can't talk about my random break downs or how I really feel about most things. Sometimes my head gets so filled with thoughts and emotions that I just can't handle it and I feel like I have no one to turn to. So now I have this blog where I'm completely anonomous and I can say what's really going on with me.

Roger's best friend, Zack, left Saturday morning for his new base. We had him over on Friday for steak and lobster and games. None of us really acted like we weren't going to see each other for a while. When we dropped him off at billeting we didn't even get out of the car to say our goodbyes. And now he's gone. I can only hope that this will put an end to Roger thinking that I have a thing for Zack.

On Saturday night we watched an episode of Grey's Anatomy in bed. Roger fell asleep about ten minutes in. It was the episode where George O'Mally's dad dies. By the very end I was bawling my eyes out. Even after I turned off the TV and tried to go to sleep I was still crying. For about twenty minutes I cried silently next to my sleeping husband. Then I decided to call my dad. Because that was the reason I was crying. He and I used to be so close when I was at home, but he isn't very good with long distance relationships and now it's just not the same. I just missed him so much. We spoke for about ten minutes, mostly about the EuroTrip I'm planning for the four of us when they come to visit this December. He's really excited about it. But he had visitors at the shop and couldn't stay on the phone for long. I was still crying when I got back into bed and I tried to wake Roger up because I needed to know I wasn't alone. But that just made me more upset. I would shove him and cry and say "baby I need you" and he would open his eyes for a moment to stare at me, then roll over and go back to sleep. I did this over and over for about ten minutes until I couldn't take it anymore and yelled at him that he was a jerk and locked myself in the bathroom and cried harder than ever. Eventually he came and got me and I cried into his chest. It was the sound of his heartbeat that finally calmed me down.