The writing floodgates have opened and I just can't stop! The other floodgates have opened, and now that the crying jag has settled down, mostly fixed by dancing and singing in the kitchen to "Our Lips Are Sealed" by the Go-Go's........ ( Hope my neighbors enjoyed it.) Let me tell you 'bout it.
I was doing some straightening up in the living room, when I realized all my junior and senior high school year books were still under the coffee table. I took them out last May to show off some spectacular photo's of someone, to a mutual friend. I'm not telling who. I'm not that dumb. Anyway, there they were, and there I was, so I thought I'd look at one of them. The best years from that time would be 9th grade, and my junior year of high school. My Uncle passed away at the end of ninth grade, and I missed the last day, so my yearbook has no writing in it. My junior year is full of writing. Apparently I was a good friend, did a great job in the musical Hello Dolly (I was Minnie Faye) and am a fabulous singer. Oh, and the ever present "Good luck with Wally." Even a few "Be nice to Wally" showed up. Nice to Wally? I let him hang around me, and after everything that happened, that WAS nice.
It's funny, but the people in my junior yearbook who wrote things to me are, for the most part, friends with me on facebook today! That's why I love facebook, because I can keep tabs on all my old friends and we truly are F/A ! I was sitting there reading all of the nice comments and inside jokes that I can not recall anymore, and was planning to write about what a bunch of nerds we all were. (Well, I assume I wrote nerdy things in your yearbook.....) There are some things I do remember. Sudafed, and "Reach the beach" come to mind at the moment.
Now, I knew that reading the yearbook would be dangerous territory. I don't pull them out very often. Wally and I were together off and on (and off and on and off and on....) from the time I was 14 til the time I was 20. Ok, lets be honest. There were several guest appearances until I was almost 22. The minute I met my x hub we were done. Well..... plus the part where he got someone else pregnant. That kinda put the capper on it too. This isn't something I can usually talk about so we must be deep down in the soul tonight. I knew that I would see whatever he wrote to me that year, but luckily it was near the end. I got to enjoy all of your odd, quirky, sweet comments and laugh a bit before the bottom fell out.
Usually he would write something short and to the point. See you this summer, love you, HSA, the end. This year he apparently told me he would fill a page. He wrote a bit, then whined about having to fill up the page, then filled the rest of the page with a giant I LOVE YOU, and several random sayings around it. HSA of course, (No, I'm never going to tell another soul. Live with it.) but I had forgotten there was one about getting married. Just seeing his handwriting was enough, but then I well and truly lost it.
I don't let myself go down the road of " What if?" very often, if at all. Especially where he is concerned. The facts are brutal, and there can never be a what if, ever. There really isn't any point in dwelling on what could have been. Especially when the reality of what could have been wouldn't have been very good. My heart questions and my head lectures. The reality is that I would still be 42 and either widowed or divorced. More than likely divorced, and then losing him a few years later. I just would probably be trying to support a pack of children on top of it. Although there is one child who really could have used my support, influence, love, whatever. It's hard to believe she's an adult now. I have kept tabs from a very long distance all this time. The last time I actually saw her was at his funeral, running around in his high school football jersey. The one I used to wear.......
I chose not to attend my twenty year reunion, for a few reasons, but this is the big one. I couldn't stand to be there when he was not. Our twenty-five comes up this summer....... and I intend to try, at least something. There are other faces I want to see, important people to me in their own right. Hugs to be given, hands to be held, stories to be told. Perhaps a few tears to shed. I can't believe I'm finally writing about any of this. If I write it I can't bury it any longer. Apparently it's time.
I was doing some straightening up in the living room, when I realized all my junior and senior high school year books were still under the coffee table. I took them out last May to show off some spectacular photo's of someone, to a mutual friend. I'm not telling who. I'm not that dumb. Anyway, there they were, and there I was, so I thought I'd look at one of them. The best years from that time would be 9th grade, and my junior year of high school. My Uncle passed away at the end of ninth grade, and I missed the last day, so my yearbook has no writing in it. My junior year is full of writing. Apparently I was a good friend, did a great job in the musical Hello Dolly (I was Minnie Faye) and am a fabulous singer. Oh, and the ever present "Good luck with Wally." Even a few "Be nice to Wally" showed up. Nice to Wally? I let him hang around me, and after everything that happened, that WAS nice.
It's funny, but the people in my junior yearbook who wrote things to me are, for the most part, friends with me on facebook today! That's why I love facebook, because I can keep tabs on all my old friends and we truly are F/A ! I was sitting there reading all of the nice comments and inside jokes that I can not recall anymore, and was planning to write about what a bunch of nerds we all were. (Well, I assume I wrote nerdy things in your yearbook.....) There are some things I do remember. Sudafed, and "Reach the beach" come to mind at the moment.
Now, I knew that reading the yearbook would be dangerous territory. I don't pull them out very often. Wally and I were together off and on (and off and on and off and on....) from the time I was 14 til the time I was 20. Ok, lets be honest. There were several guest appearances until I was almost 22. The minute I met my x hub we were done. Well..... plus the part where he got someone else pregnant. That kinda put the capper on it too. This isn't something I can usually talk about so we must be deep down in the soul tonight. I knew that I would see whatever he wrote to me that year, but luckily it was near the end. I got to enjoy all of your odd, quirky, sweet comments and laugh a bit before the bottom fell out.
Usually he would write something short and to the point. See you this summer, love you, HSA, the end. This year he apparently told me he would fill a page. He wrote a bit, then whined about having to fill up the page, then filled the rest of the page with a giant I LOVE YOU, and several random sayings around it. HSA of course, (No, I'm never going to tell another soul. Live with it.) but I had forgotten there was one about getting married. Just seeing his handwriting was enough, but then I well and truly lost it.
I don't let myself go down the road of " What if?" very often, if at all. Especially where he is concerned. The facts are brutal, and there can never be a what if, ever. There really isn't any point in dwelling on what could have been. Especially when the reality of what could have been wouldn't have been very good. My heart questions and my head lectures. The reality is that I would still be 42 and either widowed or divorced. More than likely divorced, and then losing him a few years later. I just would probably be trying to support a pack of children on top of it. Although there is one child who really could have used my support, influence, love, whatever. It's hard to believe she's an adult now. I have kept tabs from a very long distance all this time. The last time I actually saw her was at his funeral, running around in his high school football jersey. The one I used to wear.......
I chose not to attend my twenty year reunion, for a few reasons, but this is the big one. I couldn't stand to be there when he was not. Our twenty-five comes up this summer....... and I intend to try, at least something. There are other faces I want to see, important people to me in their own right. Hugs to be given, hands to be held, stories to be told. Perhaps a few tears to shed. I can't believe I'm finally writing about any of this. If I write it I can't bury it any longer. Apparently it's time.
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