An Update

It's funny to write a post on a blog that was created to tell the story about two people beginning life together, and now, after 3 years, it's a the same story with a new chapter - those same two people living apart. I haven't written in awhile because I haven't known what to write. I think I've been trying to process this whole only-get-one-coffee-cup-out-of-the-cabinet lifestyle. But I decided tonight that sometimes the best way to process is to write:

So, I'll start with the question, "How are you?" It's a question that I've had a hard time answering recently. I can't even believe it, but David will have been living in Rome, Ga for 6 weeks as of this coming Friday. And maybe the weirdest part is that I'm still figuring out "how I am." There are days where I miss him, all of him - piles of clothes beside the bed that he swears he will rewear tomorrow, impromptu concerts in pjs, and bike parts everywhere. And there are days when I'm frustrated, almost jealous, that I'm not with him, but these feelings are a lot more complicated than just feeling sad or lonely.

Coosa River Bridge at sunset

And maybe the truth is that I haven't really been sad or lonely. As a matter of fact, I think there's a part of me that's been feeling more guilty than anything - guilty that I haven't been sadder or lonelier. Satan has a weird way of twisting the peace that the Lord gives into something else. I have these ridiculous thoughts like, "You're not lonely? You must be a terrible wife. You must not love him enough. BE LONELY!" How in the world does peace turn into such turmoil? I know it's not true, but I hear this small, sick voice in my head every time someone says to me, "I bet you're SO lonely. I don't know how you're doing it." I should smile and respond, "Some Jesus, exercise, New Girl, and Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me," but I always feel too guilty to admit that loneliness has not been my biggest struggle this far.

Okay, so if I'm not feeling lonely, maybe you are wondering what I am feeling. I think for the first time in 6 weeks I have an answer to those how-are-you questions. As I sit here trying to express it, I'm realizing I never could have guessed that I would feel this way. The truth is, more than anything, I think I feel empty. I'm empty, spent, bedraggled. The whole thing feel like an endless game of tag where we are running back and forth saying, "You're it!" And in that quick moment where we catch each other, it's wonderful and fun, but the rest of the time I feel like I'm running around trying not to get caught by the rest of life, trying to catch up to the next Friday when I can stop the world again to be with David. I guess that actually makes David more like "home base."

It's funny though, when I wake up late on these Saturdays, all lazy and snuggly, I feel whole and satisfied. It's almost like I don't realize how I feel during the week until I'm back with him feeling like the "real Laura." Then, I look back at my week, and it's like I see things clearly. I was happy all week, but there were pieces of me missing. My jokes didn't land because I wasn't telling them to David. I wasn't sure about my shoes with my outfit because he was not there to nod in approval before I headed out the door, and I can't blame the fact that Louie ate something AGAIN on David this time, because, well, he wasn't there. It was entirely my fault haha.

And as I write this half-smiling, half-teary confession, finally able to put my finger on it, I realize again that THAT is why I married him. It would be stupid to say that I could not live without him. I did for 19 years. But being apart has helped me remember why I married him, why I didn't want to spend another day without him, why he is my best friend. And as cheesy and mushy as this damn post is turning out to be (cuss words = less mushy, right?), I really do understand at some new, weird level that marriage makes two people one. 

So, how am I? I'm good. I'm feeling a little like I'm running on empty, and I really miss my best friend, but I really am alright. Oh, and by the way, I can't wait til Friday. 
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PS - Sorry for few and low quality pics these days. It's just not how we're spending our time.

blanks walls and leaves on the ground

Hilda Grahnat

I love writing letters on leaves. Every year around this time, I used pick a lovely fall leaf, and write a note on it. Being a lover of mail and the written word, it just seemed like fun. In the fall, one of my dear friends from childhood would always open an envelope to find a colorful leaf with sharpie scribbles on it. I'm not sure exactly why I did it, but I knew this long-time friend would understand.

The funny thing about my love for fall leaves is the irony in it. I hate change. I cry almost every time I cut my hair. My clothes tear to shreds or go out of style before I quit wearing them - note, I still own and wear a pair of pants from the seventh grade at 23 - I own 3 colors of nail polish: hot pinky - orange, nude/lightish pink and clear. Why? Because I fake the change - I rotate 3 shades in and out so it "looks" like I change. I have the same car I drove at fifteen and sincerely don't want a knew one. And in my old house, the wall over my bed stayed blank for two years because I was looking for the perfect thing to hang over it and if I drilled holes in the wall, I couldn't change it if I didn't like it.

I have a new blank wall. Come see. Help me drill holes. And best example of all? I cannot let go of people. Memories. Change. I am the roots, not the leaves.

You may think I'm crazy, and, yes, my hatred is a bit extreme, but who really loves change - transience - temporary?

The leaves that I wrote letters on, that crunch under your feet as you walk to work, that act as decor on your mantles, that make for hours of fun when in piles - those leaves are proof that we can't escape change, but that it can still be a beautiful thing. Has death ever looked so lovely? Change is part of this world, and the desire for something eternal is just another reason to believe we weren't made for this.

Victoria Hannan

Pictures part of 1010