DSP

I read an article today on CCN about the fallen troops in Iraq today. And I am sad today that like most American I don’t give it much of thought. I see the caskets returning and I get a little misty. But I don’t know these solider. And I continue on with my life.

The article I read today was about the nicknames they have, some given by parents and friends and some by the people that they serve with. A nickname can tell you a lot about that person. What people who knew them thought about them.

As I read this article I was hurt and shamed of myself. I might say a cursory prayer for the soldiers there and I was done. I am ashamed of myself. Regardless of whether I am for this war or against this war I support the people there doing what our government has asked of them.

My youngest son has set his mind, body, and spirit in becoming a U.S. Marine Corp Officer. As he gets closer to graduating from college this year and obtaining his commission this war is beginning to hit closer to home. I began to think about all the names I have called him doing his life. All of my sons as babies were called pook-wook- no particular reason, I liked the way it sounded and the way they would twist their mouths whenever I would say it as if they were trying to mock me. I have wrecked my mind this morning trying to think of a nickname that I called him that would encompass all that he is. And the more I thought about it the only name that comes is Jeremy.

I’m sure as the day of his commission gets closer I will start to pay more attention to the troops there. I’m sure as the day gets closer my prayers will become more impassioned. I’m sure as the day get closer I will become more ashamed of myself for the cursory prayers that I prayed.

May the Lord God bless and protect our troops. May He guide them in their endeavors, make them strong where they are weak, and touch each of them as they go about their journeys. Lord God continue to keep Your arms wrapped strongly around them. And Father if they fall gather them and take them to live in peace with you. AMEN

It sounds so easy- the comfort of a man. But not just any man will do. It has to be the right man. I miss the comfort of a man.

I’m not just talking sex; I miss the deepness of his voice, the hardness of his face, and the palms of his hands. I miss the look in his eye as he looks at me. I miss the silly and serious argument with a man. I miss the comfort of a man.

I miss the fleeting touches that he gives, the toilet paper roll put on backwards. I miss touching him. I miss the mischievous smile, and the all-knowing looks. I miss going to sleep with him and waking in the morning. I miss the hair in the sink, the socks on the floor. I miss the comfort of a man.

I miss him washing my car; I miss cooking for him. I miss being his. I miss not thinking about him and planning our evenings. I miss the hints of what he wants for his birthday, or Christmas. I miss the planning of our vacations. I miss him throwing out the garbage. I miss him holding me and wiping my tears. I miss him yelling at the T.V. I miss him changing channels just as I get interested. I miss taking a shower with him, I miss trying new recipes on him. I miss the comfort of a man.

I miss him while I read and he builds his model cars. I miss sharing the same space and I miss the silence of being together. I miss the messes he leaves in the kitchen, I miss cleaning together. I miss his tending to the lawn; I miss the wrong size clothes he buys me. I miss the comfort of a man.

I miss his ear breaking snoring, the thief of cover, and the legs between mine. I miss searching for him in my sleep at night. I miss the embarrassing noises he makes. I miss the comfort of a man.

I miss the way my body responds to his. I miss the way he helps me to relax. I miss the dirty words between us. I miss his expression as he climax. I miss the hardening of him under my hands and mouth. I miss his mouth between my legs. I miss his kisses, deep and sweet. I miss him unable to hold back: I miss the tensing of my legs. I miss the comfort of a man.

I miss the comfort of a man. The right man.

It’s been a while since I last posted. So much and so little has been going on. My mind is full of junk that I can’t seem to get rid of it. And when it’s full of junk none of it can be good. I need a good problem like torn between three men, or too much romance, or just down right freaky sex. I mean freaky!!!! I want to move and damn I want to moan and scream. But none of that is going to happen in the near future. May be I could throw something, anything that’s breakable, something that will shatter into tiny tiny fragments- never to be put together again. That’s about how my mind is splintered into pieces.

I want to love someone, and be loved by the same person. I don’t want to be in love with someone who is not in love with me and vice versus. I want that love to be passionate. I don’t want to settle, I want it all. I want to be able to argue and not be scared he is going to walk out the door and never come back. I want to be able to trust. I want to be in his thoughts; I want him to save a joke for me. I want him to be passionate about me.

I want to be a good friend to someone who can always count on me and I can always count on them. When the phone rings in the middle of the night I want them to know that I will always listen. I don’t want to feel like my problems are petty; occasionally I want to sit back and just drink a glass of wine and not discuss children or men all night. And I don’t want to watch Lifetime channel all night.

I want to be daring. I want to put a card on a man car and not worry that he won’t know it’s not from me. I want to be the woman at the bar, that men buy drinks for. I don’t won’t to wander why is he talking to me? Does he think I’m easy?

In the end I know that I am only me, some of things I am and some I am not. All I can be in the end is me. I want to be enough not just for the people in my life, but more importantly I want to be enough for me. My mind is no longer splintered.