It’s been a long time since I’ve been in bed, after midnight, writing.
A long long time.
Ray LaMontagne is playing on iTunes.
J left on Tuesday for a quick New Year’s Eve private party gig down in the islands. They paid his way, as well as a good wage, but unfortunately, the flight was the cost of his wage so there was no sense in my going. This means that a holiday that really shouldn’t mean too much, but does, to me, is going by and I am without him.
I wish that despite the fact that we are together, live together, 24-7 (oh, the perils of two people who are at home during the day, working together) I still feel this stupid disappointment that we’re not hanging out together this week.
It doesn’t help that it’s frigidly cold here, it felt like -1 the other day due to the windchill factor. That’s a bit much for this New England transplanted California girl.
On Tuesday night, I was so cold in bed, without J as my own personal heater. I ended up with the humidifier on, the door shut, praying the heat would come on. I wore wool socks (sexy, I know), hooded sweatshirt, pants…somehow I slept and in the morning, the bedroom was freezing and I thought “Shit, now I have to call the plumber to come fix my heat”.
When I opened the door I realized the rest of the house was warm and the furnace was cranking along. Before calling the plumber to fix the radiator in the bedroom, J skyped in and I told him about how the heat in the bedroom was broken.
And his face froze.
“Woops. I forgot to tell you, it was so hot in there the other day, I shut off the valve.”
He said this while sitting in his bathing suit, just back from a dip in the Caribbean Ocean.
This week has been a reminder of last winter when he was gone for six months and tonight I went out with a girlfriend to hear a friend of ours perform. And the whole time I had the same feeling of aloneness that I felt last year when he was gone. And I thought to myself, as I drove home alone to an empty house at the end of the night, how aloneness is just a state of mind.
There are many times I’ve been with someone or in a large group, and still felt so alone. Like my marriage. It’s been five years, almost to the day, that I packed my 2 and 4 year old up in my car with some bags and toys and moved to my mom’s house and hour away. I left my home that day and some would say it was the day I left my marriage, but I had left my marriage months and months and months before I actually changed my address.
So, here we are, at the end of a decade and moment by moment, things are changing and they are unexpected and lovely and scary and they sometimes suck but most of the time, for me, now, they are awesome.
J comes home Friday night and it will be 2010.
Do you say “Twenty Ten”? Or “Two Thousand Ten?”
I choose “Two Thousand Ten”.