I wake up in the morning not sure if my dreams are real and I’m waking up in a dream, or is the opposite is true and I’m waking up to the real world. More often than not I’m left with the regret of knowing that my dreams are in fact, just that..and that the reality is I’m living in a nightmare.
I wake up with your name still on my lips from the nights dreaming. I instantly get the feeling in my stomach that something is missing. It’s you. I know that. I get nervous. I wonder if you’re ok, or if something has happened while I was sleeping. I should have taken my phone off of vibrate in case you tried to call. Sometimes I don’t hear the buzz over your voice in my dreams.
I check my government issued Afghanistan cellphone. It’s the same kind of phone I had when I was 23, and cell phones finally had color screens and a game or two. It’s primitive, but it works. I check it to see if you’ve sent me a message of love during my night of not so deep sleep. Generally I’m left with normal background screen with the time and ROSHAN in big letters across the middle. Sometimes though I’m lucky enough to check and see “1 new message” across my screen. When these moments happen my heart practically beats through my chest. I shouldn’t be this anxious over a text message but I can’t help it. I’m a born worrier thanks to my mother and a life of growing up constantly concerned for..well..everything.
Almost always the message is something simple, and sweet. Enough to make me smile and realize that yet again, I worry for the sake of worrying and not because anything has ever happened to warrant worrying about you. You’ve done nothing but be perfect in the 7 months we’ve been together (6 1/2, officially.)..why would that change now?
I get dressed, my anxiety not completely settled. Every morning I wake up anywhere from 1-2 hours earlier than anyone else here in my PRT so I can find a means which to talk to you. Some people would say I’m obsessed with you. Some people are right. It’s not an evil obsession though, I don’t have a doll I made of you, with hair I’ve stolen from your head while sleeping. It’s the kind of obsession that only exists when one is truly in love. I’m obsessed with who you are. I want to know the most intimate details of your mind and your day. I use it as a means to make sure I can be perfect for you in every way. You once told me about an ex of yours who didn’t even know what days you were working. The lack of interest in your life that he exhibited is something I never want to replicate. I want..nay, need you to know that I DO pay attention, and I care enough about you that I want to know even the most mundane details of your days. I want to know how you slept, what kind of cream cheese you put on your bagel, and whether or not any of your customers were rude at work. It’s just the way I am, as much as it annoys you sometimes.
I get to the phone, I always get sick to my stomach on the walk there…never 100% sure you’re going to answer. By the time I dial your number my hands are shaking and I’m short of breath.
Instant relief as I hear your (more often than not) cheerful morning greetings.
If all goes well I leave whatever phone I’ve occupied for the last 30-45 minutes with a smile, a light heart, and the knowledge that everything is going to go right that day. If things don’t go well, I feel as if my life is ending. I doubt everything that exists about myself. I place the blame solely on my own shoulders. Maybe if I was home this wouldn’t be happening, maybe if I hadn’t asked so many questions you wouldn’t be upset..there must be something I could have done, or not done to stop this trainwreck. I can’t breathe, I can’t thing straight..my hands shake and lose their warmth. I lack focus in whatever it is I’m doing.
But that’s a rare occasion, and normally we do whatever it takes to prevent that from happening.
I eat breakfast. Sortof. Normally it’s a bowl of cereal and some toast. The food here is awful and it’s no wonder I’m losing weight. I should do something about that but there’s nothing to do.
I get to my office. I start up my computer and enter my password, LaurenRose52<3..everytime I type it I remember the night at the melting pot..your iPhone, hitting the button that accepted to me and the world that you were mine.
The emails you sent overnight fill my screen. I read every word, twice, three times. I look for hints as to how you’re really doing, what’s going through your mind. I reply immediately to the most pressing questions while planning in my head the longer email I plan to send later, when I have time.
The day goes by quickly. I constantly check my wristwatch that has both my time and yours plugged in. I calculate how long till you wake up, and the things I need to do that prevent me from sending you an email, always making sure I have enough time to write you a good enough one to start your day.
By the time I realize what is happening you’re awake, and my day is nearly done. I eat dinner before heading to my room awaiting a time I know you’re able to call. My heart races as the minutes get ever closer. I wonder what you’re doing, what you ate for breakfast, if you were feeling ok. I think about you grabbing your books, keys, and a water bottle before heading out the door. I try to imagine your day perfectly and time it up accurately to when we had determined you were going to call. I stare at my phone waiting for it to light up as the minutes, seconds grow closer..anxiety sets in as I worry that you over slept, or had a flat tire, or a bad morning in general.
When the screen finally lights my heart jumps as I get to hear your voice. I know everything is either ok, or not ok in the first 30 seconds. Your voice tells all.
By the end of the conversation it’s all I can do to force myself to stop smiling like an idiot so people don’t think I’m insane. I crawl into bed with my wall of pictures directly in front of me. I stare at the pictures of you looking back at me and pretend you’re there by my side. I spray the Victoria’s secret perfume on my pillow hoping to coax my dreams to thoughts of you. As I put Forgetting Sarah Marshall on my iPod I barely make it to Peter’s trip to Hawaii before surrendering to the sleep that brings me to you.
If this is obsessed, then so be it. I don’t want anything less. I make it through the days guided by your memory, and your voice. I know soon our lips will be together and won’t have to part any longer than it takes for us to get fresh air.
If I said I loved you, I know you’d believe it. But I hope instead to show you I love you..so that instead you can feel it.
I know it is sad, when you have those moments where you break down and cry because you miss me so much… but it’s good to have those once in a while. It means nothing has changed… it means we still love each other so much our heart could burst from happiness.
When you stop crying about missing me, and it doesn’t hurt anymore..that’s when something is wrong.