Friday, January 28, 2011

Tech support

Last night, David and I tried to make a few changes to my blog. Well, it went haywire, and my older posts were gone. I mean gone. I was sick. Shaking. Nauseous. David went into panic mode, and sat staring at the screen, helpless. I became desperate, and hysterical as I do in any and all crisis. David shuts down, and gets...hmmm...let's use the word, unfriendly. This is how we always handle things in a crisis. Me in the fetal position, David in a silent rage. Not the healthiest way to handle what life throws at you, but that's the magic of him and I.

He was up trying all that he could to restore all my posts, and I laid in bed, heart racing, clenching the covers around my neck, and cursing silently in my mind. We called it a night, and went to bed way too late for us. I awoke around  2 a.m. calmer, but sad. I kept thinking about all of the very personal things I have written here. I thought about the stressful, painful experiences we have had over the last, I don't know how many years now. I thought of the sweet memories I have recorded, forever etched in my brain, and the daily things that I have mentally discarded because I know they are written down somewhere. Stored for me to read at a later date. I felt a loss in my gut. I felt a hollowness. I worried that my memories, and part of my life, was missing. Gone somewhere "out there", floating above me like a speech bubble, with nothing written in it.

Then I got sensible. I thought to myself....Isn't everything you put out there into "cyberspace" (is that term even used anymore?) always "out there"? Didn't they retrieve  e-mails between Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky that both parties thought were deleted? I knew that there would be some way to get my posts back. It had to have a happy ending. David always says I have a picture in my head of the way things are supposed to go. When there is any deviation from this image, I sink.

David got up at the crack of dawn. He fixed it. He crawled back in bed with me, and curled his body around mine, and told me it was back. My memories were intact. Still "somewhere". Not floating. I felt his warmth, and could really sense his sleepiness. He did it for me. He is my support in every way. He fixed that awful pit in my gut.

On the occasion that we rent a movie, David will inevitably choose independent, "artsy" type movies. I always joke with him when we see an advertisement for a movie that shows olive branch awards all over it. If it won something, and says anything about a jury or a festival, he is all over it.

I am always left very confused when I see these movies. I like the happy ending. I like to see it all wrapped up into a pretty package. No loose ends. No wondering what happened to so and so. I even like an occasional part II. If I can see what happened after the pretty wedding, count me in. When we watch David's picks, I am always speechless as the credits roll. There is the image of the car, driving on the desert road. Or the dreamy image of the girl, walking down the suburban street. Where is she going? Is she going to be with him? I get frustrated, and will fester about these films for the night, and sometimes, into the next day.

Not David. He loves them. Sometimes I think he knows how it ended. He has no questions. He will smile, and say something like, "we'll never know"...or, "you know how it ended"...or my favorite...."why do you need to know?"

Because I do. I need to make sure it all comes out OK. I need to know that through all of this stress, and muck that we are currently up to our eyeballs in, there is a happy ending. I want a date to circle on my calender, so I know, if I can just make it to then, and it is guarantee that we will be OK, then I can take all of this. All of it. 

I watched David last night, as we were in the middle of the blog crisis, and he was silent. He was working, and not speaking a word to me, except for the occasional "will you just get out of here and let me do this", and I thought, we don't work very well as a couple. He just shuts me off, and I just shut down, and we get mad at one another. How could we be together? Why are we together?

But, it works. As he held me this morning, in the stillness, I realized that it works. I need the whole picture. I will strive for the image in my head. I will work at creating the life that I know we can live, and David will be there at my side. I will be disappointed sometimes, and there David will still be. Talking me off, yet another ledge. And he will show me, as he does every day, that there is no date on the calender. The road is open before us, and it is all a wonder. What will happen, where we will can't be seen right now. Why do we need to know?

I need to enjoy everything leading up to the credits. I need to see that it isn't always a catastrophe. It isn't always going to be awful.

Thank you David, for saving our memories.

I love you more than you will ever know.

You can pick the next movie.

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