I was in the store with Katie and Olie, and saw a great nightie. You know the kind, moms can wear them without fear of warping their kids, but daddies give them a wholehearted "Heh, how YOU doin?" It was black with an explosion of incredibly rich, colorful flowers, spaghetti strap, just a couple inches above the knee. And I thought "Brad would love me in this," and then remembered.
How do you unmesh lives? I read a description once, of different ways of starting dreadlocks. NO matter how they were started, there was only one way of getting rid of them: cut them off, leaving one with an inch or so of hair.
I feel like that. It's not simply a matter of who gets what, when, or where. It's losing the person that loves to watch "Buffy: The Musical" yet again with you. Losing the one person who would go crazy for the cheap Aldi's con queso I'm eating right now cause it's so similiar to the con queso at the wonderful, but in a bad part of town, Mexican restaurant we go to when we're feeling dangerous. Losing the guy that can quote "The Fugitive" anytime, anywhere. Probably in two other languages, as well. Losing the man who lets me put my feet inbetween his calves when I'm cold.
It sucks. Big time.
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