In fact, I had such a hard week last week that I about turned-tail and ran my ass right back to Texas. It's the last place I remember being happy. It's my home, even though we left almost two years ago. I want to go home. That its not even close to being an option, that didn't matter last week.
I spent the whole week obsessing about whether or not I could, feasibly, go back to Texas and how that work work with Matt staying in Utah. The logistics would be a nightmare, but last week, I'd have been willing to accept that. I was in a dark, dark hole and going back to Texas was the only way I could see to climb out.
I have friends there who would let me stay with them. I could get a job and pay them rent. I still have a Texas drivers license. I could see myself going. Matt wouldn't entertain the idea, because, you know, it's ludicrous. He wouldn't even discuss it except to say that someday, maybe, WE would go back there. We. Not me, but we.
This week, I can see how crazy that is. Except the thought still lingers, even now. But you know, Matt is a whole lot of what made Texas my home. Without him in it, I don't know that I want to go back.... at least that's how I feel in my more sane moments. In the moments when I'm more tired or more depressed, I think I could do it. I could go back.
The whole crazy scheme is fed by the fact that we don't see one another much, working opposite shifts. And soon, his shift will change and we'll see one another even less. It's so incredibly hard. I know there are women who manage to get by without seeing their husbands for long periods of time and still stay sane, and happy, but I'm never going to be one of those women. I need for us to spend time together.
Not seeing one another leads me down the dark path where I feel like if I can't see my husband, I might as well have something and Texas is that something. My brain says, "you don't see one another much now, and you're miserable in Utah." I tell myself that maybe Texas would make me happy again, at least in some small aspect, and that would allow me to gain a little control over my life.
Because, ya know, I don't have any of that right now. Control over my life. I go where Matt goes, I do what Matt wants to do, and I wonder when the last time I did something for myself was. And, I can't remember, at first... then I remember 1999, when I moved to Texas. That was it. That was the last time something was at least a little bit about me.
Then the cycle starts over. This week, I know it's not an option. Because, well, it's not. I want to be close to my husband, I want to see him when I can and find a way to see him more, and there isn't any way that could happen if we're living 1,200 miles apart. So, I'm here and I'm looking for something.
Nothing yet, but maybe tomorrow that something will occur to me. Maybe.
