Saturday, February 18, 2012

twenty-seven candles

So yesterday was my birthday.

I wasn't in a "celebration" kind of a mood, honestly.

I'm in the middle of one of those weeks, one of those weeks where every stupid little thing makes me sob like someone just killed my puppy. I'm tearing up right now, writing this. It's really pathetic and I'm mildly embarrassed for myself. I don't know if it's the six week blues, or crazy hormones, or just the fact that the last few days have included Valentine's Day and my birthday, but I am currently eating a giant piece of tiramisu cheesecake and throwing myself one hell of a pity party.

I actually had a fun little girly date last night. I went out to dinner with some girlfriends, and we pigged out on totally delicious treats that we'd normally never touch and gossiped about the silliest stuff. It was so much fun. Then we went to see The Vow, which was the sweetest, sappiest, chick-iest chick flick I think I've ever seen, and of course it made me feel even more lonely. Sigh.

Then I came home, miserable, to our silent empty little house....and discovered a giant bouquet of flowers, complete with giant "happy birthday" balloon, perched on my front step. I love that man so much...I'm not sure how he's so adept at making me smile from eight zillion miles away, but he's got it nailed.

I miss him terribly. I can't wait to see him. I can't wait to feel his whispers tickling my ear, instead of straining to hear his voice over a faint, crackly phone line. I can't wait to kiss his lips, instead of scrawling XOX at the bottom of letters. I can't wait to share the dinner table with him, to laugh under the hot water of the shower with him, to fall asleep snuggled against his chest.

I know next week will be has to be better. Right now, though, it kinda sucks.

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