Blackberry.

The past 4 days I've been alone with the kids as Chads been away on business in Toronto. My days were happily filled with busing kids here and there, trips to the grocery store for fresh produce, play dates with friends after school, baths, stories and bed. Theres something to be said about pillow talk with a warm, exhausted 4 year old. That to me, quite possibly is the secret to life.

I like being alone with them. My children are calmer, as am I. I've noticed I am more of a 'yes' person when he's gone. I don't have to hear about drama going on at home via text message at work. I'm not asked questions I've already given the answer to 8 times. When they are with me, there simply IS no drama. We get along. Chloe is helpful around the house. Ryan finds ways to keep himself busy when daily duties beckon. They play together nicely and there are less fights I have to break up.

I wonder why taking him out of the equation makes us 'run' so much smoother?

I feel like his priorities are out of whack. Work is number one for him, always has been always will be. We recently went to New Orleans, LA and I am not kidding...EVERY picture with him in it he had his blackberry in hand. If I could fucking throw that goddamn blackberry out the window of a speeding train, I would. He checks it during dinner. He checks it during a trip to Costco. He checks it at school functions, family functions and play dates at the park. He's always on his Blackberry. How he lasts on flights to anywhere is a complete mystery.

Its embarassing for me to have to get his attention in public by yelling his name. It hurts my son's feeling when he's supposed to be playing airplanes with him and he's still has that stupid thing in his hands. Look, I know work is important as he is the bread winner after all...but I am seriously losing my patience. Matter of fact I lost it a long time ago. Last night was the straw that broke the camels back.

5:30am I roll over to find him checking his fucking email on his Blackberry.

SEX??? WHAT's SEX??? Get the fuck out of my bed if thats not where you want to be.

I want.

There's times I feel as though there is more to life. But what exactly do I have to complain about? I have a job I love. I have a wonderful family. A couple dollars to line my pockets and I'm not plagued by abuse or dependency. Yet I sit here and feel like there's something waiting for me. Bigger. Better. Fabulous. What am I using as the template for happiness? Have I hoodwinked my mind so much to think these things are possible? Or perhaps even that they are not?

Some one said something to me not long ago, in hindsight I wish they never did. Somethings are better left unsaid. Yet when I heard it, I soared. How is this possible? How can something that feels so good to hear, later make you wish you were in a different time and space? You can't tell a girl like me things like that. I have a rather capacious imagination. I take it and run. The end result is yearning for more which unfortunately does not bode well for my well being.

I feel change coming on. A storm is a brewin'. I feel it in my core and its in the forefront of my mind. I've reached in a few times to take what belongs to me but was never successful in maintaining the adjustments it brought about. Fear took hold too soon. I wasn't over the hump. Was I busy being strong for everyone else that I forgot about me and what I wanted?

I want love. True. Authentic. Delirious. I want it to come in and roll over me. The kind of love that makes you levitate. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I'm not loved. I am in more ways than one. I am loved as the Mother of some one's Children. I am loved as a best friend. I am loved when I do a good job. I am loved when the power goes out and little hands need to be held tight.

I want to feel it again. I want him to take my face in his hands and bury his kiss on my lips like he's not letting go. I want the world to disappear like it did before. Before responsibilities and babies. Before coin operated laundry and part time jobs. I want to feel it chasing my heart. I want to have the desperate feeling when we're apart. Drown in love and a pool of sexuality that no one else can infiltrate. Whisper in my ear 'I love you, baby' in a voice so low it cuts my thoughts full stop. I want desire so thick its makes my vision blurred and my feet feel like air. I want to see you again my love. I want to taste the salt on your lips and feel the wave of passion come over you. Transfer your body to mine and light me on fire. Love. I want it back.

B.L C.R T.F

His sense of complacency worries me.What he doesn't know is he reminds me of myself. A ticking time bomb with the intensity to rip worlds apart and scatter shrapnel some people will carry around with them for the rest of their lives. Emotionally that is.

Sometimes people come into your life because there is unfinished business from past lives. Others come into your life to teach you. While others will rape and pillage your soul till you are left feeling so empty and depleted how you take your next breath is a miracle in itself. I don't know why he's letting this happen. A better question may be why I give such a big shit about him? I suppose the answer is again, cause he reminds me, of me.

I see colors around him. They dance like streaks of fluorescent light, like its 5am after your first hit of Extacy at a rave. Blurred and beautiful. I'm sure he wonders why I stare at him. I'd love to tell him but he wouldn't understand. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. That could not be truer in my opinion. There's a depth in his eyes that carries me off to extraordinary places. All it takes is a split second, a glance.

I like watching him move, it tells a story.
I love hearing his voice, its restoring to my soul.
I need to have him near me, its pure addiction.
I want to taste his lips, its my therapy.

The thought that counts.

I'm sitting on the floor with my back against the couch. My head feels heavy. I let it fall back until its resting on the cushion and stare at the ceiling. Blank. In the corner of the room the popcorn ceiling is testing my ability to see something out of nothing.

I'm reminded daily that love surrounds me. I see it at home when I kiss my children goodnight. I see it at work when Husbands are leaving or returning from business. I see it at the park as fresh lovers hold hands and walk slowly. I love to love.

My close friends know I'm a fixer. A handy dandy at mending hearts and lending a shoulder. I can feel the hurt most people try to repress and grave. I can see it in your face and feel it on your lips. Although I may not always be able to understand the source of the pain, I feel a tremendous urge to help. I like to be the sounding board that helps you move through life and in turn help move me through mine.

I've no interest in earning the most money or hanging a Masters Diploma of whatever whatever on my wall. All of my grade school report cards had the same comments time and time again...'Tracy needs to focus on her school work instead of talking to her desk-mates'...'Tracy, does well in social settings and is never shy when working in groups'. Im a professional people person. An alumni at the state of human condition.