writer's block and love

Spring 2005

As I sit here and type, I'm all dolled up in my husband's attire:  sweatshirt, shirt, and warm-up pants.  It's my way of forcing his arms around me while he's away on business.  Annaleigh even fell asleep on my chest faster, tonight.  I don't blame her.  Because it smells like him.  And to us, it smells like love.

I have so much in my head right now.  Right now, I want to write it all down.  But I'm beyond tired.  My head is cloudy which seems to be causing me pain.  And I'm so worn out, on this Sunday evening, that it's not even a possibility to attempt to organize all the things rolling, whizzing, flying and barreling around in my head.  My whit and charm have left me.  I think they found their way to my bed hours ago.

But I promise, it's good stuff.  Like, really good.

I also think if your heart aches, it paralyzes the rest of your body.  Maybe even the creative juices, if but for a moment.  So, as full as my head feels...it's empty.

Tomorrow is a new day.  Dawning with new life.  Until then, I plan to join my whit and charm in my bed.  At least someone will be sharing it with me tonight.  Hopefully, we'll each get enough rest in order to reunite.  Maybe then, too, I won't miss him so much.

P.S.  I just reached 

into his sweatshirt pocket,

and pulled out a Swedish Fish.

His favorite.