nights are the hardest

I miss her so much. I see her every chance I get, but today I didn't. I actually needed to work on cleaning the old house so we can get our full deposit back, but ended up staying at work long and taking care of things there. My boss told me that i'm fighting a perception that I don't work enough, so I stayed until after 6. By the time I got home I was starving and grabbed Michael to go get some dinner. We came home, sat down together and watched a couple of cooking shows. That's kind of become his and my time together lately - watching Alton Brown combine chemistry, cooking and humor - while choking down something I didn't have time or energy to cook. I fully intended on getting back up and grabbing him and going over to the other house. But, I know better than to stop moving. Once i've lost momentum, well, physics takes over. A body at rest...you know.

So, now i'm laying here on my bed, cat against my leg gently purring, sound of my dog breathing coming from the corner, son asleep with his dog upstairs. I'm wide awake. I will be for hours, crying and worrying, and trying to figure out how to do it all, all by myself. I know that comments will be posted that i'm not alone and so many people have helped in the last 6 months that I get overwhelmed when I think about it. The alone I talk about is the alone that can't be filled by a friend offering to help or knowing that there are other people out there that care about Sara, Michael and me. It's the alone that chokes me when I lay here at night, with Sara's cat against my leg, and the breathing of my dog coming from the corner of my darkened room. It is the alone that says that I can't pick up the phone and have anybody fix this. Or the kind of alone that can't hold me when the tears start and I can't say why. Its the kind of alone that strips you of any armor you have and leaves you standing naked in a sand storm.

I'm not wired like most people, I guess. I'm definately equipped differently than most. I wasn't raised to have lasting relationships beyond the immediate family and significant other. I guess I could have changed that as a young adult - lord knows I changed enough of the other lessons from my upbringing. But I didn't for whatever reason. That is one thing, thank goodness, that I have NOT passed onto my children. I told them early on how I was raised and they wanted different. They wanted friends they grew up with, lasting relationships, and a larger family. Well, I let them know that Mom is out of the baby business, they are too young to get into it, so we'll start building up the family when they are older. I hope I've done right by them, raising them here in Rohnert Park. I see Sara's friends at their jobs, and her boyfriend close by, and see her roots wide and deep. I see Michael with a friend he's had since second grade-more than half of his life and hope i've done right by him.

And then I see me here, feeling alone, and a bit sorry for myself (no comments from the peanut gallery), twice divorced, and mainly only hearing from my boyfriend via online chat somedays and rarely see, no family left except my father and uncle (and for reasons that events, time, and distance cannot repair- Not them...ok...I messed those up, too. Sorry Dad. Sorry Sim.)

I miss talking to Sara. We'd curl up on my bed at night and have great conversations about almost anything. We'd talk about our boyfriends, stuff at work, problems, bills. It was nice to have that kind of relationship with her, that communication. It has totally saved us through this, to be sure. I miss her voice. That lilty, sweet girly voice. Silly things you miss... i guess its not that silly,

I miss talking to Don. Really talking, not just the surface chit chat that scurries across a computer screen. I miss him telling me his thoughts - sometimes the silliest random political stuff, sometimes deep almost philisophical observations, sometimes hopes or little glimpses of the road ahead of us. And his voice. How soothing his mellow purr is to me. He could do the commentary on a golf game and I'd listen...I miss him looking out for me, protecting me. A woman needs that. At least this woman does. I miss sleeping next to him-waking up and feeling him there.

I just called to check on Sara and she's still awake too. She has her teenager sleep schedule back, although they wake her earlier than she wants.

The dog is snoring now. How funny. She's probably dreaming about herding Kenai around the yard...and I'm still awake. And when my back, arm and knee stops aching, and my mind finally quiets from all the things I have to do and what didn't get done today or needs done tomorrow...and I will run in my sleep too.