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141/365 – Missing Her

If there’s any testament to the power of love, it has to one that errs on the side of suffering.  Love is something that brings great joy, but it’s power can be physically and tangibly felt when it turns sour.  Not the love itself – like when you cheat on a partner and then realize what you lost.  More like when you go away for 5 weeks to study in Los Angeles.  That kind of sourness creates bunches of knots.  Stressful, anxiety laden knots.  It’s what my body is mostly composed of  right now.  It’s been a whirlwind of a day.  Usually when I come out to LA, I feel fine.  Usually.  But this is different.  I never really thought I would miss my wife this much.  It’s not the days I’ve been gone that have been bad.  It’s the days I know are ahead.  It’s a testament to how compatible we are to each other.

For example.  I’m writing this on Monday.  A day after the posting.  All of Sunday I struggled with pangs of sadness, but hoped that once I got into a routine, I’d be okay.  Then I woke up at 4:30am and just couldn’t get back to sleep.  It was awful.  I was having panic attacks.  When I spoke with Megan later that day, she told me she had a very real dream about me.  She thought she felt me nuzzled up against her in bed.  She thought she woke up and saw me.  She said, “Timmy.  You’re not supposed to be here.  You’re suppose to be in LA.  What’s wrong?”  I said, “I’m really nervous.”  This happend at 4am her time – around the time I gave up trying to sleep and got up for the day.

That’s a connection.

In any case, I’m really missing her.  I hope things get better.  Anxiety sucks.

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