This has been the week for surprises and being blown away. This morning only added to the mix. How delightful surprises are!

An old friend of mine returned to the States from Afghanistan. He’s in the Army and he’s been gone for over a year. This morning he left a message on my cell phone telling me that he was back at Ft. Bragg and then he gave the number for his hotel. I was shocked to hear from him, but thrilled. It’s been forever since I’d heard from him so the relief I felt at knowing he was alive and well was tremendous.

It’s funny how things change. He was the man before the one I love. We were great friends and wonderful pen pals while he was deployed- at least as well as we could be considering the fact that he was in a war zone. In his honor I even wrote a story which was accepted for publication. The Heart of A Soldier is fiction with a little fact thrown in and one day I hope he reads it and knows that he will make some lucky woman very happy.

How does one incorporate parts of their old life into their new one? Is it possible for old friends and lovers to accept when one has moved on? Can they understand and appreciate the power of true love? Sometimes I think it’s a lot like playing with fire, but other times it’s more like the intense warmth felt from the embers of an old flame.

He was my friend, my hero. I respected him then and I respect him now. I have nothing to hide from the love of my life, not now, not ever. I am happy with my life and with the plans we have made. I’m equally as happy to know that someone who was once very dear to my heart is back home where he belongs.

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I’m still in shock. I don’t know how it happened and I don’t really care. All I know is that where there was once anxiety and doubt, there is a sense of peace. I’m sure it shouldn’t matter to me as much as it does, but I can’t help who I am or how I feel.

Last night we went out to dinner. It was nice to be out together, just the two of us. One thing led to another and the topic of marriage came up. Actually, he brought it up. Knock me over with a feather, the man brought it up!

He asked me if I thought being married would be such a bad thing {Hell No!}. He told me that he’d been thinking about it a lot lately {Oh My God}. Then he leaned into me and told me that he would love to introduce me as his wife {Insides To Mush, Breathing Ceased}. I don’t know if I cried or not, but I was certainly quiet and more than a little over the moon.

Then we talked about babies. We’re both “fixed” but the desire to have a baby with him is overwhelming. Almost as overwhelming as the desire to be his wife. He told me that he’d rather be married first, then have a baby, that making me an unwed mother wasn’t something he wanted to do. I could have taken flight right then and there.

I don’t know if he’ll ask me. Knowing he’s been thinking about it gives me more hope, but he didn’t say he was going to for sure. I’m afraid to get my hopes up, so I’ll just keep going the way I have been. Loving every minute of our life together, reminding myself that in my heart I am already his wife and he is already my husband.

And this is the song that went through my head more than once- if you’ve never heard it, I encourage you to find a place to listen to it.

Lately(Been Dreamin’ About Babies)
I used to think I had it made,
Every time we said goodnight.
This little dating game we’ve played,
Has always seemed to feel all right.
I’ve had my privacy and your heart on a string.
And it’s never been my style to ruin a good thing.

Oh, but lately,
I’ve been thinkin’ ’bout a change of plans;
Maybe get a couple wedding bands,
And do something crazy.
Maybe get a piece of land and see,
If we could start a little family tree.
Well, I don’t know what’s gotten into me,
But I’ve been dreamin’ ’bout babies.

I know it can be hard these days,
To be a family man.
I know that all the experts say:
“You need to live life while you can.”
I’ve heard psychology on what makes “true love” true,
And I’ve read the books on educated points of view.

Oh, but lately,
I’ve been listenin’ more to Dr. Seuss,
Readin’ up on Mother Goose,
Seems she’s quite a lady.
I’ve been seein’ lots of pinks and blues,
An’ little bitty tennis shoes.
Hearin’: “Goodnight Daddy, I love you”’s.
Yeah, I’ve been dreamin’ ’bout babies.

I used to dream of fancy foriegn cars,
And black tie affairs.
And how we’d live in separate condos,
While we climbed the golden stairs.

Oh, but lately,
I’ve been thinkin’ that it makes more sense,
To build a house with a picket fence,
Forget the Mercedes.
Get some puppy-dogs and trainin’ wheels,
And a family Oldsmobile.
I can’t believe just how good it feels,
To be dreamin’ ’bout babies. (Dreamin’ ’bout babies.)

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Our children are gone. The house is a wreck and not just because of the move. Comforters, pillows, and stuffed animals litter the living room. Forgotten pairs of shoes and school books are tossed about as if they were left as silent reminders of their owners. The picture makes me sad. It makes me long for them, for their hugs and kisses, for their high pitched voices and silly giggles.

We spent some quality time together last night. He held me close while we talked and laughed. He held me closer still when I cried and confessed my thoughts from the other night. It was just what we needed. A few moments before we fell asleep to reconnect. I realized how much I missed him while all of our kids were here.

This morning I was distant and blue. He asked me what was wrong, what I needed to feel as if I belonged. He asked if it was going to take something as dramatic as marrying me or something as simple as getting me a desk of my own to sit at while I write. I laughed and told him not to worry that I would never ask him to marry me, that I know how he feels about it. He told me that he didn’t feel like he once did, that an amazing woman had showed him the error of his ways. I left the room because I didn’t want him to see that for a brief moment I’d gotten my hopes up.

Later on he told me that the “M word” didn’t seem like the dreaded beast it once did. I swallowed hard and thought a moment before telling him once again that I would never ask him for that. I told him that I knew how he felt and that I would love him without asking for more. He told me that I could ask for the world and he would give it to me, that I should ask away.

I believe him. I could very easily ask him to marry me and he’d probably do it. The thing is, I don’t want to ask him. I want him to want me to be his wife. I want him to ask me. If it’s discussed like a business opportunity, forget it. I want to be his wife, but I want him to want it for himself, not because I want it.

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Last night I felt as if my world was falling apart. My heart ached and I tossed my cookies in the toilet until the wee hours of the morning. He asked me once if I was coming back to bed and I choked out some pat answer because I couldn’t think about anything but the hurt inside of me. The last time I hurt as bad and was as scared was the evening of The Incident. I hated it more this time than I did then, even though we hadn’t called it quits.

For the first time in years I found myself contemplating suicide. I’m not being dramatic and I don’t need any sympathy. I take responsibility for my own actions. While worshiping the porcelain goddess I kept replaying certain memories over and over in my head.

The night we met. The first time we made love. The first time he told me he loved me. The day he asked me to move in. The times he held me tight to keep me from running away from what I really wanted. In the middle of the good things I was remembering, our arguments started coming back to me.

When he told me for the first time that he didn’t like my kids, that he wouldn’t throw himself in front of a truck for them. The second time he told me that he didn’t like them, that they were horrible to be around. When he told me that he knew I wasn’t his ex, that she had nowhere near the problems I had. The way his face was distorted when he told me that I had ruined him financially, that if it wasn’t for me he would have owned his own home by now. Then there was the way he told me that some things were none of my fucking business.

I weighed my options. Stay or go. Fight for us and for the love we share or walk away because it was a no-win situation. I mentally ran down the list of the meds in the cabinet, the exact location of the Xacto knife and the razor blades, what would it take to crash the car and die instead of being left a vegetable and even more of a pain in the ass? I hated myself for all my shortcomings and imprfections and I wanted nothing more than to leave it all behind.

All I want is to be the best I can be. I want to keep the house as perfectly as possible, do the laundry as well as it can be done, cook the cheap meals as deliciously as I can. I want to make love to him like an experienced escort instead of just an inexperienced woman. I long for the seven of us to be a family, to get along, and when it doesn’t happen, I know it is because I have fallen short, that I have dropped the ball.

For as long as I can remember I thought if I did things well enough then nothing bad would happen. Sperm Donor wouldn’t rape me. My mother wouldn’t send me away. My children wouldn’t fight. My boyfriend wouldn’t be unhappy then just up and leave.

I believe that love is the answer. Stupid though it may be, it’s the truth. If someone is hurting, love them. If someone is angry, love them. If someone is bitter, unhappy, scared, lonely, or confused, love them that much more. I keep thinking that if I love him enough he’ll stop holding me at arms length, that he’ll let me in. I can’t help but wonder if that’s not the case at all.

This morning I can honestly say that I don’t know how I feel for sure. Other than I feel as if my not being around anymore would solve scores of problems. For him, for them, for everyone that I love.

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It was bound to happen and tonight it did. He was talking to his son and I was overly sensitive when I heard what I thought was mention of my girls and why they were still here for the weekend. So I spoke up. I asked his oldest if he had a problem with my being here. The answer was no, but the damage was done.

I asked what was said and I was told that it was “…none of my fucking business!” The words hit me like a ton of bricks. I realized that I have been living on pins and needles, wondering how everyone really feels. Now I guess I know and I wish I didn’t.

My heart is big enough to love everyone. His kids, my kids, and all of our collective families- they all have a place in my heart. I love them more than even I realized. I just wonder if it’s ever going to change. Will I always be kept at arms length? Will I ever be part of the inner circle? Judging by the events of this evening, I know the answer.

Is loving him going to be enough? I know my place. I am not the mother of his children but I sure do love them like crazy. I have seen such wonderful changes in them in the short time that I have been around. Even his family has noticed and remarked on it. It makes me feel good but at the same time, I wonder if he’s noticed. One minute he says he loves the way I am with the guys and the next, I’m told to basically butt out that I have no business in any part of their lives.

My mother says that it will never change. She says that the way things are now are the way they always be, that I should leave. I can’t do that. I made a commitment and I mean to see it through. Maybe that’s being a little naive and more optimistic than I should be, but I can’t help it. I love him and that means whether times are tough or it’s smooth sailing. One day I hope that I won’t feel as if I’m on the outside looking in.

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So here we are in our new home. Most of the boxes have been sorted and put in their appropriate unloading places if not unpacked and their contents put away. In the last six days I have been a mess. I have gone from smiles to tears at the drop of a hat and more than once I’ve wanted to run. I don’t know why and I hate myself for it. I want to rant and rave but I have no idea why. This is the life I wanted. These are the plans we made. God damn it, why the hell am I such a wreck?

Could it be days without quality sleep? Box springs that were too big to be taken upstairs? Is it the fact that we’re ‘relocation poor’? Perhaps it’s the fact that this whole being a family thing is foreign to me. I don’t know how to love and discipline five children all in rapid succession while keeping him from the fallout. I don’t know how to lean on him instead of insisting on doing it myself. I don’t have a clue how to look at my little girls and accept the fact that I don’t know who the oldest is. She isn’t the girl I raised nor the young lady I hoped she would be. She isn’t me and I don’t know how to let her be who she is without allowing her to screw up her life.

It’s been daunting, to say the least. The thing is, I’m tough and I have what it takes to make it work, no matter what. This house, however, I’m not so sure about.

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Life has been crazy this week but we’ve managed to keep it together. Tonight we’ll have all five hoodlums under one roof and we’ll motivate ourselves to get packed. The movers will be here on Sunday morning and I’ll be damned if we don’t have hardly a thing packed. Motivation is something that I am lacking, to say the least.

Since The Incident things have been amazing. It’s kind of scary- downright terrifying. Last night with my hands on his body, both covered in lotion, I told him as much. I told him that I had never been so open, so vulnerable, that he holds my heart in the palm of his hand. He told me that he liked knowing that I was open, knowing that I trusted him enough to put myself out there. Before, I did it without question, without reservation, because I couldn’t imagine being any other way with the man I was in love with. After The Incident, all of it changed.

I found myself second guessing my every thought, my every move. I wouldn’t hear the sweet things that he said, only the hurtful ones. I cried myself to sleep. It was a major setback on my part, because he shook the very foundation of trust that I thought we had built. I knew that it was just one of those stupid arguments that got blown way out of proportion, but it hurt just the same.

He felt horrible and I knew it. I used his guilt to allow myself to say things that I never would have said before. I’m not the manipulative type, but it allowed me to negotiate a little for what I wanted from him. The funny thing is, I didn’t have to negotiate.

The Incident made him realize that things were pretty damn good for us. The change in him has been amazing. He listens to me, he takes an interest in not only the here and now but also in my past. I feel important. I feel valued. I feel genuinely loved.

We made love last night in sweet slow motion. I slid down over him and pressed my lips to his. Our tongues touched, lingered as I teased him. I leaned back and closed my eyes for only a second before he brought my face close to his once more. “Look at me” he said. I opened my eyes and looked into his. His love for me, the passion that I saw reflected were too much and I rocked back. Closing my eyes I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his once more and my body coaxed his orgasm from him.

He whispered his love, words of contentment, and I pulled the comforter around him before I headed down stairs. Sometimes making love with him is more than I can take. I love the way he makes me feel and I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but knowing that he can see beyond my naked body straight into my naked soul is a powerful thing.

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Gary Allan has recently released this country song titled “Life Ain’t Always Beautiful.” It speaks of hardships and the good things that come from them. He should know. He has children, he has been divorced and he was remarried. Last year his wife commited suicide and though I don’t know how he did it, he came out on top. The man knows what he’s talking about.

Stephanie Klein also knows what she’s talking about. Love, self-esteem, and life are covered in her blog Greek Tragedy and I’m addicted. I fire up the laptop and click on her site immediately. In her I’ve found a kindred spirit of sorts. She hits home whether she means to or not and I love it. I’ve cried more, believed more, and in a strange way, I’ve loved more since discovering her blog. She’s made me realize that I’m not alone. (For those of you who may wonder, yes, I will buy her book on the day it hits the store. I’m a die-hard fan, not an envious bitch who wishes her life were my own.)

I tease him about not liking myself since he’s come into my life, but that’s not altogether true. I pick myself apart more than I used to, sure, but at the same time- I’m better. I write more- from the heart, not for the masses. I’ve taken control of my desires and I’ve gained focus. I know how to fight fear, but I don’t fear the things that I once did. So, I like myself alright, I just know my flaws and imperfections better than I used to.

The site will be up and running soon. I can’t do my own yet, but I’m getting there. So for now my writing is showcased at The Erotic Woman. I love being a part of something so positive and I’m working harder than ever to put together new things. Hopefully you can stop by and take a look at the site. I think you’ll like the tasteful things you find.

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{I heard this song this morning and it brought tears to my eyes. I wouldn’t trade the man I love for anything in the world, but this song made me think of one special one who came before. He’ll never know how I felt and we’ll never know what might have been, but every once in a while I wonder about him. So for those who have loved and let go, I hope this song fills you with only the sweetest memories.}

“Always On Your Side”
Sheryl Crow & Sting

My yesterdays are all boxed up and neatly put away
But every now and then you come to mind
Cause you were always waiting to be picked to play the game
But when your name was called, you found a place to hide
When you knew that I was always on your side

Well everything was easy then, so sweet and innocent
But your demons and your angels reappeared
Leavin’ all the traces of the man you thought you’d be
Leavin’ me with no place left to go from here
Leavin’ me so many questions all these years

But is there someplace far away, someplace where all is clear
Easy to start over with the ones you hold so dear
Or are you left to wonder, all alone, eternally
This isn’t how it’s really meant to be
No it isn’t how it’s really meant to be

Well they say that love is in the air, but never is it clear,
How to pull it close and make it stay
Butterflies are free to fly, and so they fly away
And I’m left to carry on and wonder why
Even through it all, I’m always on your side

But is there someplace far away, someplace where all is clear
Easy to start over with the ones you hold so dear
Or are we left to wonder, all alone, eternally
But is this how it’s really meant to be
No is it how it’s really meant to be

Well if they say that love is in the air, never is it clear
How to pull it close and make it stay
If butterflies are free to fly, why do they fly away
Leavin’ me to carry on and wonder why
Was it you that kept me wondering through this life
When you know that I was always on your side

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The last few days with him have been idyllic. In the grey Pittsburgh skies, I’ve found the sunshine that I so desperately needed. Beyond the clouds and the rain, we came out on the other side- together, with our love in tact.

He commented on it this evening while we were watching a movie and I had to agree. It does feel like we’re settling in, as if things are winding down and we’re on an even keel. Crazy, given the schedule we have ahead of us with the move and all. I feel good- not just on the surface kiind of good, but a deep down in my bones good. It makes me feel as if the faith in us and in the love we share hasn’t been misplaced.

I know things will get tough again. I know it won’t be all moonlight and roses for the rest of our days, but I know we can handle it. No matter what happens, no matter what comes our way, we can get through it as long as we’re together. I no longer feel like an idiot for staying, for defending him and the love we share. I feel like I can walk with my head held high with my hand in his and know that I was justified.

No matter what happens, I’m thankful for the moments we’ve had. Instead of only tears and broken promises, instead of words flung in anger, at long last I have known bliss.

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