Boxes

Still in the throes of unpacking. I painted the guest room. It's the color of butter pecan ice cream. I'm down to mostly putting away small things and am hoping to have the house in some sort of order by the end of the week. Things are so much better now. Friends have been gathering around, calling to see if I need help with anything, making sure that the kids and I are alright.

We spent a wonderful Fourth with the girl detective and her family. Everyone jumped up and down, made a fuss about how good I looked and how glad they were I was home. Her mother is another surrogate mom for me and I thought she was going to cry when she finally got me into her arms. I never have had a hug that was so tight or heartfelt. Tears were again preempted by laughter. She called me "kiddo" like she always does and handed me a tea glass full of homemade sangria. My kids played in the pool and set off more fireworks than I've ever seen. It was a good night and we came home full and exhausted.

He called a couple of times when I first arrived and I haven't heard from him since. He made lots of noise before I left about keeping in touch and being friends. I recognized it for what it was---more of his "good intentions" that would never be followed up on. I knew better, so the silence has been a relief. I'll take silence over someone's uncomfortable small talk every time.

The only sign that I ever even knew him at all are the dreams. Every night since I got home, I've had dreams of him leaving me. The scenarios are all different, but the thread that runs through them are all the same. You are not good enough. I don't want you anymore. I think it's my brain's way of sloughing off all the hurt, of cleaning itself out. The same thing happened after I left the D.A.'s office. I had about two weeks of horrible nightmares about being called out to scenes of unspeakable crimes, mostly involving people hurting little kids. Those were the cases that always stuck with me. It made perfect sense that they'd twist themselves into even more grotesque and disturbing dreams. So my brain had to find a way to clean house. I am certain I have a pressure release valve located somewhere in my subconscious.

All in all, life is finding its rhythm. The house is coming together, the kids are reacquainting themselves with everyone and everything here, and I am starting to appreciate the wiser, stronger version of myself. I'm going to start training with a friend next week for our first marathon. I'm also starting the work thing full force next week, getting office stuff set up and letting the courts know that I'm ready to start taking clients. All sorts of things to do...but today, I'm taking my kids to see Spider Man.

Woohoo!!!!

Just checked my email and flight info for my taller, cooler doppelganger lacyunderall magically appeared in my mailbox! Yay! Yay! Yay!