Being Happy With What You Have

It's something that everyone struggles with in life. Being happy with what you have in your life rather than focusing on the things you don't have. It's usually material things, wanting to jet off on holidays but not having the financial means to do so. Salivating over those beautiful pair of Franco's that just came out last week at the shoe store (fuck me but they're beautiful) and knowing that if you buy them it'll be kraft dinner all around for the next month! The bigger house, the nicer car, the better job.

I find myself in the tenuous position of trying to be happy not with the amount of material things but rather the amount of love. For anyone that knows anything about the trucking lifestyle (and make no doubt that's exactly what it is), you know that time is money. If their wheels aren't turning, they're not making money. Trucker boy's schedule has him on the road for two weeks then a Friday, Saturday and if I'm lucky a Sunday home. During those two, sometimes three days, he has to spend time with his son, do any errands that need to get done and squeeze me in. To say it's a juggling act would be the fucking understatement of the year.

So I'm having to relearn my entire way of thinking. Anyone that has been reading this blog knows that I have a tendency to be a tad bit selfish, just a wee bit. Tiny little intsy wintsy bit. Oh hell "It's all about me" should be tattooed across my ass. Learning to share at the age of 37 is quite an eye opener let me tell you.

He was home last weekend. Arrived on Friday, I picked him up at 10:30 Friday night. We got back to my house and I made chicken wings at 11:00 at night. He read parts of my blog while I puttered around my kitchen. Yes, you read that right, I let him read my blog. No one in my real life even knows I have a blog, except for him now. We went to bed around 2am and back up again at 9am so he could get back in town to spend time with his son. I had to work on Saturday afternoon and he texted me around 3:00pm. "What are you doing for dinner?" I hadn't given much thought to it. I knew I'd have to throw something at the anklebiters and essentially replied as such to him. He replied back, "Why don't you let me make dinner." So I picked him up at 5:00, he hopped in my car with grocery bags in hand, came to my place and cooked a delicious mushroom chicken linguine for the kids and I.

I'm learning to cherish those small things. Watching him putter around my kitchen, being thankful that he's there and would think of cooking dinner for us, knowing that he has a million other things on his mind. I watch his hands move as he cuts up vegetables and I'm enthralled. He kisses me on the forehead as I stand against the kitchen counter and I smile as though someone has handed me a pair of Loubitins. The Dual Mom of a year ago wouldn't have been thankful for those things. I see these changes in myself and they scare me. Change is scary. I find this wellspring of patience where he is concerned and I marvel at where it comes from. The kids see the changes, Mom is a little less edgy, smiles alot more, is much more patient. I question whether I'm losing a part of myself or simply growing. The edgy, take no prisoners, don't fuck with me or I'll eat you for breakfast woman that I've known all my life wouldn't settle for stolen moments and being grateful to have her man cook her a meal. Hell no, the woman I've known all my life would demand to be picked up at the door, wined and dined at a nice restaurant, showered with compliments and endearments, put on a pedestal and make damn sure it's a pretty one. So where did this other woman come from? Was she always there hiding, waiting for the right love, or is she settling because of love?

I went on a short trip with him in the truck. Yep, your's truly whose idea of camping is renting a 30 foot camper complete with air conditioning and full bath spent 24 hours in a truck and loved every minute of it. What the hell? No bathroom facilities, no running water, curled in a bunk for a quick nap on the side of a highway. Peeing in public bathrooms at truck stops. Who is this woman? He sleeps in short 3-4 hour periods. We arrived at his first delivery stop at about 4am hopped into the bunk, set the alarm for 7 and drifted off to sleep. When the alarm went off he hopped into the driver seat, I mumbled something incoherent and drifted off back to sleep. He drove around, making his deliveries while I dozed in the bunk listening to the sounds of him working. About 9:30am I hear, "Do you know someone that might like coffee?" I pulled myself out of the warmth of the bed, hopped into the front seat of the truck, blindly groapped for the coffee sitting in the holder and looked at that beautiful face smiling back at me saying, "Good morning baby" and I can't remember ever being happier. What the hell?

We drove for another 12 hours, stopping for bathroom breaks, naps and food. Driving down the highway, watching the world go by, singing together at the top of our lungs (have I mentioned how badly I sing) and I was happy, deleriously so. What the hell?

Seat covers - that's what passengers are referred to in the trucking world. Apparently I make a good one. My passport application is completed and ready to go. I've decided to take a week off in the near future and go out with him. It requires a passport because he does runs to the US. How much fun will I have blogging from the open highway people!?!

I need to learn how to accept the happiness without overanalyzing. I need to convince myself that it's ok to be happy when I sit and remember how he wakes up in the morning, looks down at me with just one of those beautiful blue eyes open and whispers, "Good morning love". Or how it makes me feel safe when he reaches for me in the middle of the night to wrap his arms around me. I need to let go of the crazy thought that I'm somehow less because I love this man with every fibre of my being. I love loving him - and I need to accept that that doesn't make me weak.

I May Be Dancing In The Rain Yet

If you love something set it free, if it comes back to you....

It came back to me. Now before you start banging your head against your keyboard and screaming, "Nooo DM please don't tell us you took him back," let me tell you the story.

Oh brief interlude, your comments have made me smile, laugh and cry. I cannot thank you enough for caring. Reading your comments at 3am got me through more than one lonely night. One of the best was from GB Girl. She wrote: If it makes you feel better, I've been flipping off every truck driver I see on the roads. Just in case it's him.

Oh hun I had wonderful mental images of perplexed truck drivers wondering what the hell they did to piss off that crazy bitch. It made me grin from ear to ear. Sorry to say you missed him though, I asked.

In my efforts to forget my broken heart I've been keeping busy. There's been lots of wine drinking, spending time with friends, texting those near and dear (you know who you are), did I mention wine drinking? Yeah I have been pretty much pie eyed shit faced drunk for two weeks. A week and a half ago, I'm at a dance with a girlfriend having the time of my life. Sober. For some reason that I can only call fate, I wasn't drinking. I got home at 2am and sat down to check email and a text came in on my phone.

"Decided not to dance huh?"

Remember I deleted his contact info off my phone. It took me several seconds to recognize the number and then it dawned on me who it was...the blue eyed boy. My heart immediately went into the 160 bpm range and my breathing stopped momentarily.

My reply:

"I was out"
Him: Ok
Me: Where were you?
Him: Insert club name
Me: I see
Him: Insert club name for you?
Me: Nope.
Him: Ah k have fun?
Me: Yep

Fuck that, I wasn't going to make this easy for him. At this point he said:

Ok, I'll leave you alone now.

And I asked, "M, why are you contacting me"

"Because I miss you and I miss us"

My breath caught in my throat and I had to close my eyes against the searing pain that coursed right through my heart.

My reply: "You do?"

"Yes"

Me: "And what do you want me to do with that M?"

Him: "Nothing. I'm sorry I bothered you."

And then I lost it.

No M, you don't get to do that. You don't get to text me at 2am and then just pull away and shut down. Goddamn it no.

Him: "It's what I am"

It went back and forth for another 5 minutes. I finally asked if he would talk, if I went and picked him up if he would talk to me, open up, explain to me what the hell this was. Then he asked me if I was going to hit him.

So I went and got him and we talked till 6am in my car. There's the fate I mentioned earlier. Had I been drinking that night, there's no way the rest of the night would have happened.

He admitted to not being able to communicate. He admitted to being angry at me because I asked things that he had no answer for. He admitted to being scared. When he held my face in his hands and said, "TM I love you" with tears in his eyes and more love than I have ever seen in a man's face, I was done for. I wrote before about how much I longed to hear those words.

Leather helps the forgiving process. This is what he landed with for me on Monday evening. He said he saw it and thought of me. That I would need it this summer when he gets the bike out.

He won't call it a "I fucked up and here have some really nice leather as an apology for my jack ass actions" present. No, he won't call it that. It's because he saw it and thought of me. Mmmmmkay  baby, I'll let you have your delusions.














I may be making a colossal mistake. I may be setting myself up for more heartache than I can possibly imagine. But right now, right at this very moment, I am brimming with happiness. This man has a selfish streak a mile long, he lives in a world, works in a world where his own wants and needs are the number one priority. Oh I'm not delusional enough to think that I am in any way, shape or form going to change him. He is however trying. There is no doubt that I feel completely and utterly loved. I asked him why he contacted me, why he came back. His response, because I love you. That is enough. For now, that is enough. It may not be enough tomorrow or next week, but right now I'm happy. So incredibly happy and loved.

If two months down the road he pulls away and shuts down, I'll rage and rant and stay drunk for several weeks, and I'll cry on my virtual friends' shoulders and I'll call him every version of rat fink bastard that I can think of ... and I'll have known what is to date the greatest love that I have ever had in my life. I'll have the memory of his arms wrapped around me as he whispers "I love you" into my hair. I can't walk away from that without giving it another chance, I can't spend the rest of my life wondering if it might have worked  had I the courage to try again.

So here I go again.....