Friday, March 16, 2007


I went to see him after the baby shower.
I suppose, I should tell you I went to a baby shower in the first place. Stories tend to work better if started from the beginning. It was my first baby shower and to be perfectly honest, I went to see camp and to see MarriedMan not for the baby shower. I brought my present and said my good wishes, played some games and found all the excuses possible to leave the building for long stretches of time.
Baby showers, I've discovered, really aren't my thing.
Babies aren't really my thing. Now maybe this will change in time, I'm still twenty-something but I'm not a big baby fan. I love kids just not babies. I'll adopt, thankyouverymuch. I felt bad on ditching out on the shower as much as possible but the atmosphere was crushing me. I needed the wide open air of camp.

Ah, camp. I've missed it so. I can't even describe what it feels like. I feel like my heart beats anew when I come close to that place. I feel my spirit lifted and wonder replacing any aching sorrow that has buried itself in my heart like spring over coming winter in those very woods. Every fiber of my being is tied to that place.

Besides my mind was all a-tumble over Married Man. Married Man is exactly what he is. Married. And I am very... very... taken myself. And yet, if there was going to be a fling, it would more than likely be with him - not that either of us would ever stoop to that. (Don't tell M! hehehe) Come on now, don't look at me like that, I am not a homewrecker.
He took me around camp on the four-wheeler. Showing me what parts of camp had been wrecked by the loggers coming through the woods I hold so dear, mourning with me over the loss he knew I felt. Pointed out all the things he had saved and fixed, and the things he was still going to do.
My mind was full of discontent thoughts about him, me, my life, M, and what I really wanted. I was hurting for I felt my insides were turning inside out. But the long drive back with my best friend helped me untangle the mess a bit and going home to M was the cure for the rest.
I really am a very lucky girl.

A Rest

Its hard to write when there is always someone there that might look over my shoulder at the monitor. It's not even that I care if people read it. Well, maybe some people. but it's like doing homework with the very music you hate blaring in the background... it just isn't possible. It's distracting in the worst way.
What I wouldn't give for a laptop sometimes. Or, you know, a room to myself. Ah the life of a poor college student with a roomate with a boyfriend with several friends who like to party... in our room with beer. (Crazy country boys, gotta love 'em)
I'm just whining. I love it. Really I do. Sometimes you just need a rest.
A rest.
That's what this week has been about. Was supposed to be about. I suppose, though, that life has a way of changing your mind about what you think you need. Like how I stayed up until four in the morning with the boy. That's a different kind of rest altogether. Oh but, a hot tub and a foot massage. I mean, who can argue with that? That certainly is relaxing, even with the acrobatics that followed...
And now, I'm craving something entirely different...