Loneliness, Weird Dreams and Survival

My fiance is leaving me for a week to go to chicago, its for his work so he MUST go. We have been together for almost 10 years and during these almost 10 years we have never been apart for longer than 3 days, while I do miss him terribly it isn’t until night time that it really hits me. So most of the night as I get woken up by random sounds that make me think someone is breaking in, the wind howling at my bedroom window and my animals whom I have let sleep in my bed while he’s away (Most of the time when I wake up I’m completely smushed up against the wall). The night is when the loneliness creeps in, I’m just used to him being there. I miss his snoring, his mumbled talking, and hell I even miss him talking about Moonshiners and Duck Dynasty. It’s so very ridiculous that only after two nights alone am I feeling like this. I was hoping to at least make it three days.

My fiance knows me so well that he reminds me to eat. It’s not that I choose not to eat, its just sometimes I forget. It happens I get so into doing other things that I completely forget that food even exists. I’ve even comtemplated putting reminders in my phone. so far I have been eating (score for me) but to be honest its not great food. The monday he left I demolished my diet by going to Ihop and getting a huge french toast meal, then I ate nachos and drank a soda. Maybe this is me rebelling that he’s gone? either way I was disgusted with myself the next morning as I still felt so full the day before.

I haven’t been sleeping well, yes this is true but when I do sleep the weirdest dreams keep popping up. On monday night I had a dream where I seduced Jim Parsons and we became friends with benefits. Although our sexual encounters were so very awkward that we would tend to berate each other and put each other down. It was almost a nightmare, at least the sex was decent. Last night my dream was even weirder. I was a CIA agent going undercover in Russia to hunt down William Dafoe. Apparently Mr. Dafoe was a Russian spy who stole the secrets of making the glue that goes on letters that you had to wet. He was going to poison every letter in the world and I had to stop him (cause you know I was the only one who could). The dream resorted into me jumping off twenty story buildings, sky diving into russia and befriending a dancing bear who wore a Tutu. The bears name was Mimi (silly name for a boy bear). I had a pistol that never ran out of bullets and I got shot twice.

I hope I can survive the rest of the week.

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My Life Without You.

Sometimes I wonder how I would be with out my fiance. When I get caught in that thought and can’t pull myself out, I get this whole life that comes streaming past, shoving its way into my mind. Paralyzing it.

I picture myself, a kooky spinster with a dog, a tiny brown terrier I named Tiny “T”. I still wouldn’t have that many friends as I would probably be ten times more socially awkward than I am now. Don’t even think about my filter, which would be nonexistent, since I wouldn’t care about trying. My hair would probably be very dark with some ridiculously obnoxious streaked through it that I would change multiple times a year.

I would send Christmas cards to family signed “Tiny T and Me”. I would eventually get a cat because I wouldn’t want Tiny to get lonely and depending on the gender the name would either be Ginger (female) or Peabody (male). The Cat would be old and slightly overweight and would have been a rescue. Ginger (or Peabody) wouldn’t like Tiny at first but they would eventually grow to love each other.

I would live in a studio apartment in an unknown location, it would be messy with too many clothes, not enough furniture, a modest T.V. and a huge sound system with a record player. Vinyls would line my bookcases, some for collection, most for actually listening. I would watch the Oscars and Grammys, T.V. shows like Elementary and BBC Sherlock.

I would drink coffee with too much sugar and creamer in a stupid coffee mug that had a ridiculous image of a dog or cat. If it didn’t have an image it would most likely have a saying that read “Instant human, just add coffee” or “Weapon of Mass Addiction”.

My clothes would never be in style and people would just think I was some quirky, awkward lonely girl (they would be right of course) I would not get married and end up being the crazy aunt that gives the best Christmas presents.

I would never get the hang of cooking for one and would throw away tons of leftovers or give them away. The loneliness would eat at me but I would soldier on splurging on Peabody (Or Ginger) and Tiny T. When they died I would mourn them with soul wrenching sobs and for years to come will debate whether to try another dog or cat.  This always depends on how lonely I feel and if I am able to not let it consume me. I won’t have kids and will try to adopt but will get denied because I’m single and slightly crazy.

I will end up developing some sort of disease that is terminal and I’ll cry and get angry and frustrated but will eventually accept my fate by keeping it a secret. I will create several bucket lists that I will never do, and will die alone in bed surrounded by no one. My landlord will discover my body when he notices I did not pay my rent. My obituary would be small and concise and people would mourn me and state that I died too young. Maybe some will reevaluate their lives.

People would forget about me and I’ll fade out of history.

Or maybe I’ll marry Will Arnett and be ridiculously happy with our witty selves and our funny little kids,