Seventeen (8/5)

After writing yesterday’s bit, I realized that I hadn’t been reviewing my first summer of writing, in 2015.

My thoughts went there as I was thinking about why I”m doing this, and why I’m not getting the same sort of satisfaction from it as I did back then.

I’ve spent this weekend working.  Something north of ten hours yesterday, and about half that today.  Thanks to that, I may be finished roughly midday Thursday, which is more than okay, considering I have an infusion Thursday afternoon.  (And that is interesting, normally by this point, I’m absolutely exhausted.  I mean, I am, but I do feel a lot better than I would have the last few years….)

So, taking it back to 2015,


Write about your relationship status. How long has it been? Is it still good? If so, why?

I’ve been together with my wife for over nine years now.

We just work. And it really never feels like work. She’s the only person I’ve ever been with, where the experience is essentially effortless.

It’s a big freaky that I’ve been wiht her almost a third of her life, now, but…

At the same time, part of me asks, “why analyze this?” We love each other, are each other’s best friends, etc.. What’s to explain?

I do miss her every day I’m away for this shitty job, though.

That’s been as, if not more difficult than my medical maladies.

I feel better when I sleep in my own bed, next to her.

There’s really not a lot more to say about it than that.

Three years after writing that, I sleep next to her every night, and that’s a good thing.

Yes, we’re somewhere else.  Yes, we’re not on our own.

But we will be soon enough.

Last night, since we’ve got run of where we’re staying, after I finished working, we ended up just sitting and talking.

How many people can say that they can do that, really?  We do fit with each other, so it goes.  And I hope it does until I die.  I don’t want anybody else, and I can’t imagine being as comfortable with someone else.