I do not like suspense. I have been living in a constant state of it for the past year. I am trying not to think about it, but how does one not think about the one thing they most want to know about? I suppose it is much like finding out (or not finding out) the sex of a baby.
I still don't know when he will come home. He is hopeful about tomorrow, and me? Well I just want to cry because until I have flight information or a text saying "I am on the plane" I can't relax and really prepare for him coming home.
Disappointment has slapped me in the face one too many times in recent memory.
Its this state of constant not knowing that is killing us all a little inside. I mean really. The girls are messes. Rhayn wants to wear her "special outfit" and its still sitting in a place of honor on her dresser. She asks me every day when he is coming. When she asks I see that sparkle in her eye, because she just thinks for this moment, it could be true. When I tell her we still don't know, its like someone shuts out a light.
Gwennie just doesn't understand yet. She wants him to come home and can't wait, but time is so much different for a three year old.
And me? Well I am on edge. I am ready to relax. I am ready for him to be here, so I can do that. Until he is home and I am done worrying about that I will just have to feel this tension in my body.