#...and failing

So, with a 'not enough sleep lately' excuse and a promise to rest, I went home. The no sleep wasn't exactly a lie, though, I was still having bad dreams. They weren't as scary or guilt ridden as before, just less coherent...everyone's voices were garbled and warped...Johnny was with Carmen, doing all the things that we talked about on the phone when he was still at the inn. They were having a picnic...holding hands, walking down the street and window shopping. Daniel was always somewhere, feeling perfectly fine to sit back and watch and laugh, like it was the best on t.v. In a few, Miguel was with them and they were doing happy family things. It's all just great...until I wake up crying.

When I get home, I'm still just going through the motions...plopping on the bed for that nap, I feel numb as I stare at the ceiling. Somewhere there, I fall asleep and Johnny and Carmen were running around doing fun things together again...Carmen convinced Johnny to be okay with Sam when they doubled with her and Miguel to see a movie...Sam had even taken them all to a baseball game and showed them all the perks...that was my team...I paid for those perks. Daniel had the basketball and hockey tickets...but the blue and white, that was mine, those were my perks...it was like I wasn't even there, they were just sitting there...enjoying everything and laughing in my face. (Knock it off, woman! It wasn't twenty years...it was barely twenty days and with everything all up in the air, more like three days...whatever he's gonna do, real or not, has nothing to do with you anymore...get up and do something, damn it!!!)

It's been about three months, good time as any to clean the den from top to bottom--if only I can find where Blanca put the cleaning rags. I look in the linen closet and laundry, I even look under all the sinks. I finally start searching the spare room closet, even the half empty dressers. That's when my breath catches in my throat. It's the lounge clothes I bought for him, while he was staying here.

In his late night rush, he had left them behind. I just threw them in the wash, stashed them away and tried to forget...guess it worked. My brain went blank and after a few moments, I sniffed his shirt. (Stop fooling yourself, you don't still smell his Cologne...that's just the detergent.) Putting them back and righting the train on the track, I find the rags and get all the cleaning done--just in time for Sam to heat up some leftovers for dinner.