Something missing.

Silence.

The littles are in bed and curled around each other like kittens.  Maya, the goofy black lab, has a new home tonight.  (She can’t move with us.)  The diswasher, which signals that the kitchen is closed, has finished running.  Even the locusts and toads have gone to bed or have found another neighborhood to chirp.  I am cruising itunes again and trying to branch out from my Dave Matthews/Jack Johnson/Indigo Girls acoustic guitar-fest. 

There is nothing sexier than a man with an acoustic guitar.  Unless it’s a man playing the piano.  Of which Stephen did neither but that goes to show you the power of fantasy.  And the reality of what love really is.

I miss him.  I hate that it takes him being gone and me being so tired to move back home.  We had always talked about it…where he would work, where I would.  Which neighborhood we would live in, where we would go to church, restaurants to try, places to shop.  We talked about how his family would be closer and mine would be right there. 

I miss him.  I have baby fever in a bad way.  I would have talked him into yet another little by this point and our family would have been complete.  He would have loved this cool and quiet summer.  We have slept with the windows open more often than not. 

The higher dose of meds has been better for me.  It has evened me back out.  Again.  Part of me, and I think it’s a big part, is numb.  The part that is capable of an adrenaline rush is medicated into submission.  Ella rode her new big girl bike down to Robyn’s today.  And I don’t know how long it was before I discovered that she was gone.  And I didn’t even get excited.  I made a phone call and her boy brought her back up the hill.  I didn’t even break a sweat.   And then there was the time that Amelia fell down the stairs.  I don’t even know what went through my head but it’s wasn’t all crazy freaked out.  And maybe it should have been.

It’s the like the fight or flight reflex is gone.  And it feels weird.  I kind of miss it.

But I really like not feeling crushed.  I like that the littles don’t have to be yelled at over stupid stuff like spilling juice on the carpet (again). 

Maybe, once the move is over and we are all settled in, I can drop my dose just a little and see what happens. 

Because I right now I feel about as exciting as paint drying.

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One thought on “Something missing.

  1. Man with acoustic guitar. You are aware of my “fantasy man,” no? AND Seth, the hero in the romantic suspense I’ve written…? I have a hunch you might like Seth almost as much as I do, and I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him, even though I made him up. Snifty.

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