The 10th in the series Letters to Lisa. I’ve been quite melancholy today, so I thought this particular letter would be a good one to share. It’s more on the humorous side and definitely a bit on the TMI side of things. But you know, she and I shared it all, so why not through these letters as well? Reference-wise, Lyndsey is her cat, Macaroni is mine.
Lisa-
Four months. A third of a year. I can’t believe you’ve been gone that long. I can’t believe the pain is still as strong as it is. Of course, in light of what you meant to me, I shouldn’t be surprised. I continue to long to talk to you more than anything.
Abby got her car yesterday and as Daddy and I stood and watched her talk to Mom, I thought how much you’d love to see the car. We had time to kill and it would have been nice to stop over to your house and let you ooh and aah over her acquisition. As it is, we went to the mother-in-law’s, which ended up being a good choice too.
….later….
Oops. I got called away. Macaroni is being difficult now that I’m settled in to write again. She won’t let me! Which does beg the question – are you angry your family put Lindsey to sleep? Do you get her now forever? Is she well now, too? Oddly enough, I’ve felt guilty the moments I get to snuggle with Mac. Lisa, dammit!!! Tell Mac to MOVE!! I can’t stop laughing – she just sat down right on the notebook!!!
Okay, fine. You’re here with the cat – that is obvious. So, let’s get down and dirty here. I have some complaints. Not TO you, but since you’re here and the closest relationship/connection I have to god – or whoever is running the show – I’m going for it. Here it is.
I want time alone with my husband.
We were supposed to have it tonight. Ethan’s at a game, Abby’s at work, but no. She’s having some sort of anxiety attack at work, or is sick, or something and she’s been texting me all evening – always on the verge of throwing up. You know how gracefully I handle that.
You also know that our ONE couple’s trip this year was ruined due to illness – my own. And now, one bloody special night is going to hell…pft. It’s gone to hell. Alone time. Nice, uninterrupted intimacy. I can’t remember the last time we’ve been graced with such a simple thing, but I can tell you that while grieving, the absence of it feels worse. After my cousin Erin died, Alex and I bonded in such an amazing way and it healed my aching heart so much. Now, the grief is totally my own and we can’t manage such a basic need. I need my husband. I need his strength and passion and touch. I need a fricking break!!! In the global scale of things, am I asking too much!?
Fuck it. What I want? What I really, really want? Is for you to be un-dead. The rest just sort of follows suit.
*whispers*
But really? I’d really, really like to get laid, too.
~Heidi
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