ROAD TRIP (Part 3) Notes from the road 2

If you haven't read PARTS 1 and 2 yet, go there now.

Sunday, May 29, 7:54 a.m.
I can hardly hold a pen, which is quite evident from my handwriting I suppose. Can't sleep. Can't eat. Panicky. Need to get up and have Matt help me get a grip but if I get up, I'll get sick. Dammit. :( [Note: Sorry ... you'll have to imagine the handwriting.]

Sunday, May 29, 10:23 a.m.
Feel much better. Made a bottle of Jell-o juice and took a panoply (1mg Klon, 1000mg Vitamin C, 100mg B6, 50mg meclizine, 50mg Lamictal, 150mg EXR, 1000mcg B12, 400mcg folic). Made Matt get up and smoke. Then we talked about how he hit me and how I was sorry I fucked up.

I told him I'm not sure I'm going to make it through the month, that if anything happened to take care of Paul. [Note: I was being irrational. Ignore the tone of that.] I also told him that all I wanted was that sign of affection, that ... feeling of being safe and protected and loved. In other words, I want my friends to be extensions of me in a way -- just like HE said -- not that they aren't their own people, but that I want them to get inside the pages of my mind. Funny, I've got so much to say but the Klons are kicki [Note: That's where it ends. Seriously. I woke up with the pen in my hand and a big red pen mark on the side of my neck.]

Sunday, May 29, 9:16 p.m.
Leave it to Woody to snap me back to my senses. Matt and I drove into Indy around 2:30 p.m. to see Woody and one of his gaming buddies from IUPUI. We ended up at Claddagh, an Irish pub with a long but predictable list of taps. It's a chain, so they're not nearly as cool as Dressell's. I told Woody we had to make it to St. Louis this summer to see Jace in action. He's down, except he might have to go to a family reunion in Maryland.

Anyway, things with Matt -- the whole, like, six weeks he's been in Memphis -- have been awesome. The past couple of days with (friend) were cool, too, I guess. Matt's friends are Matt's friends for a reason. I shouldn't fear they'll accept me as is. Sigh. Years of Briarcrest made me paranoid.

But there's a huge part of me that's ready to go home, ready to spend time with Paul and my gaming buddies. They're family. Tonight, Woody asked if I was coming back (to gaming). I said, "You know I am!"

Matt and (friend) just popped in the guest room ... I tried to look busy. Hell, I AM busy. I'm sad he's going, but he's going to come back. I've been more social this past six weeks than I have been in a couple of years. Mattie P, Jeremy, Carrie, Abby, Andy ... I even called Woody all on my own. Small victories.

So why do I feel like this is so final, like I'm going to cry a long time and be sad and stuff? Maybe because I feel stronger and more social and I'm connecting that to Matt's time here. Maybe because I fear the quiet once I get home ...

Or maybe it's because I love him and want to take care of him. And because he loves me and takes care of me quietly, behind the scenes. This morning, I was sad and angry and tired of waiting for him to sober up. And we were out on the porch while (friend) was still asleep. I said something like, "I'm angry..." (about him hitting me), and he asked me why. And I said, "Because I thought you loved me more than that." And he turned me around and looked me straight in the eyes and said, "I can't believe you'd EVER doubt how much I love you." And I could tell he meant it.

He may be ... different ... but he has principles. Like respect. And honor. Trust. Understanding. And if anything ever happens to our friendship -- or to one of us -- and I look back at this journal one day and I question any of this, I only need this reminder: My husband trusts him enough to let him stay in my house, hold my hand, keep me company. He trusts us enough to let us road trip across five states while he stays home. And he trusts Matt not to hurt me emotionally. That's real, man. That's hardcore.

I figured this might be the last time I'd write before I come home, but now I'm thinking I'll write one more time. We'll see.

Sunday, May 29, 11:52 p.m.
Freaking out. Gave Matt the rest of the Klons. I know, I know ... I might need those later and all ... LIKE NOW ... Okay, he gave me one back. Sigh.

Monday, May 30, 4:05 a.m.
Two chicks came over. They're loud and drunk. I hope my sleeping pills don't fuck up my driving because I'm out of here as soon as I figure out how to get home. I miss my hubby, my lifestyle, my Self. It's time to reclaim. More when I get home.

Continue with PART 4