Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Sounds...

I love him soo much and want to spend every second of the day by his side. I know I am overwhelming him with my neediness. I can see it frustrating him. But he is accepting of it because he knows that I need that. The jet lag still seems to be hitting him. He is soo tired. Our schedules are completely off. The day after he returned, he had to go. He left early in the morning around 6:30am. He has to do this every morning for 7 days straight. I don't know exactly what he does there, but I know they sit through classes and have paperwork checked off. On the first day he brought back all sorts of goodies. T-shirts and stress balls were a few of the things he spilled out onto the bed.

That first morning I slept in. The more time I spent sleeping would mean the less time I would have to spend without him while I was awake. And we were up at 2am so I was still pretty exhausted. I laid in bed waiting. Every time a car door shut outside, I got a little excited and waited for the sound of the door opening. After about 3 of them, I had given up. But on that third one, the dogs rushed to the door panting and barking. I knew it was him. I heard them greeting him at the door and his deep voice calming them down. I felt butterflies as I listened to his boots marching up our stairs. He entered the room and I felt relieved for some reason. Relieved that he was home and we could be together for the rest of the day. I asked for a hug and he willingly accepted.

Aidan had a basketball game that afternoon. We sat in the bleachers together and watched our son play. I can't remember the last sport of Aidan's that we've watched together. I am pretty positive it was a t-ball game about 5 years ago. He has missed out on soo much. We have been married for 12 years and have only shared about 3 anniversaries together. But who's counting? I chose this life. WE chose this life. I didn't know it would be this difficult, but I am proud of the obstacles we've overcome and I look forward to conquering many more.

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