Writing the Rain

I broke my own cardinal blogging rule without even realizing it. Twice!

I blogged about the weather.

You see, I think blogging about the weather is the blogging equivalent of conversing about the weather. It's something you do when you have nothing else to say. And if you have nothing else to say, why are you still writing?

But, I want to write. I want to be the old Tuna Girl. Tuna Girl might not be all of me, but she's a huge part of me and more real than the person I play every day.

But I'm afraid.

I'm afraid, as I always am, of turning into Tuna Girl's Broken Record.

A mentor once told me that when you just can't make the words come, tune into your pain. Write the thing you would never write. Let the chips fall where they may.

Fine. Here goes.

Before my husband left for Iraq I told my best friend something. I said, "I would never utter this to a soul other than you and you'll never hear me say this again, but..."

I'm scared.

I'm not really scared of him being gone or something bad happening to him. Believe it or not I have faith. I may not believe in a higher power but I believe in the equipment, training, and my husband's own common sense. And since equipment, training, and common sense can fail, I have faith that if something were to happen, I could handle it. With the support of my friends and family and probably some professional help, I could handle it.

I'm not even scared of being alone here. I've been alone before. I'm not scared of the responsibility or sacrifice. It's all old hat.

I'm scared of being too needy.

I hate needing.

I thought I had learned this lesson with his last deployment. Once my jaw was unwired I was able to open my mouth and let my need bleed everywhere.

But I'm stuck again.

I don't want to get out of bed or leave the house. I do, but I don't want to. I already miss being casually touched by another human being. And it just hasn't been that long.

I need people right now. I need friends. I need to not be so alone.

And I need those people to reach out to me, because if were just up to me, I'd never call out to a soul.

It's raining today, and it seems appropriate. Writing about the rain is appropriate too, because I have nothing else to say.