Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Back to the Mush

These pictures were taken the week before our wedding on the beach in Garden City, where "we" began.

To say that I've never been happier is cliche, but so darn true.

Sometimes, I have to pause.
Then, think.
And finally, feel.

This feels good, I think.

Would I be happier somewhere else with someone else doing something else?

NO. And try as hard as I might, I can't even begin to imagine another life somewhere else with someone other than Will. Its impossible.

Last night, I couldn't sleep. It was one of those nights where your pillow feels more like a cement block no matter how much or hard you try to punch it comfortable. Will was in a deep snooze. I could feel the solid mass of him, completely relaxed in unconsciousness. It was the first night in several that he was actually sleeping well, and I was terrified that my restless tossing would wake him up. I finally decided that it was time to give up and get up. I crawled out of our warm but at that time torturous bed. I barely lifted the blankets as I slipped out and tiptoed to the door. I listened in the dark as I reached for my robe. He hadn't stirred. I wrapped myself in the robe and turned the door knob, praying that it for once wouldn't catch and scrape open. But, it did. I listened after the explosion of door against door jamb, and his heavy breathing continued undisturbed.

I gratefully shut the door behind me to be immediately greeted by the Panther in mid-hunt. She abandoned her prey and kept company with me on the couch. Her rolling purs were background music as I surfed the unfulfillable web. I gave that up quickly and then attempted to read my mystery/murder/thriller book. That lasted until the first stirrings of the Patters over my head, whose heavy footfalls and scurryings totally freaked me out and left me wanting the comfort of Will, even in sleep. Damn the pillow, I was going back to bed. I dosed up with ibuprofen and crept back into the room. He was still sound asleep. He turned towards me when I sunk into the bed. Thank God, he wasn't awake just responding to the weight shift on the mattress.

I lay there on my back, watching shadows move across the blinds, until the back of my head ached, and I had to turn on my side. I barely breathed as I turned towards Will, praying that I wouldn't touch him. I just wanted him to finally get some well-deserved sleep. Once on my side, I imagined life in West Virginia, anything to take my mind off the dull ache of my skull and the frustration of being wide awake in the middle of the night. At some point that I don't remember, my pillow transformed back into the fluffy feather-filled thing that it is. And the very next thing I knew, Will was kissing me goodbye.

The verdict from the night: Will had finally slept very well with no memory of my late night wanderings.

What all of that had to do with the above pictures, I'm not really sure. I just really love those pictures and they made me ponder the depth of my love for Will, which is immeasurable. Enough mush? Agreed.

Now, to clean up the Panther puke under the bar. Wonder what she ate this time. JOY!

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