Thursday throw out

Hi all,
Still recovering from vacation. I guess it helped me with this weeks post. I miss my friends desperately and am trying myself to keep in good spirits. Tomorrow is my birthday. I hope I feel better so I can actually function. Not much to say this week without getting all emotional on y'all so here is the throw out.


The Last Adventure of Those Girls

Five Hours.

Five hours on a plane to think about the events of the last five days.  I tried to sleep, but every time I close my eyes Shannon’s face is all I can see. The disappointment behind his honey eyes  as the door shut in his wake. I pull my parka tight around me and drag my suitcase through the snow covered parking lot toward the ramp where my car awaits. I have never been so happy to see my rusted little commuter car in my life. I climb in and she fires right up. After letting her warm up for a few minutes, we make our way toward home and my awaiting pre-teen.

Coming down after a vacation is always hard. You can talk yourself into the “back at it” mindset all you want, but as soon as it becomes reality, the depression sets in.  I drone through my first week back attempting to fly under the radar. Having a desk job allows me a certain anonymity, and as long as I get my  work done, no one bothers me much.  My only respite is my child, who despite her constant blathering and questions,  lights up my world with the purity and awe of the 10 year old mind. 

Like clockwork, every night  when I close my eyes I relive my last moments with Shannon.  I knew the exact moment  he gave up, and, I knew it was me who pushed him over that cliff. Like a train wreck, I can’t bring myself to turn away as I watch the drama unfold night after night.  I guess in this case I dug my own grave, and now I have to look at it until I come to my final rest.

Caroline is my savior. The woman has always been able to read me and know exactly what I need.  Friday night she arrives, bottle in hand, and a stack of crappy movies to boot. I smile and hug her, trying not to fall to pieces, though I know she can feel the heft of my sadness in my embrace. We spend hours watching sparkly vampires and male strippers, eating popcorn, and demolishing bottle after bottle of wine,  until we both are unconscious  and snoring on the floor. Friends are often better psychiatrists than the overpaid doctors themselves. 

****


FIN