Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Home again, home again, jiggity jig

Ahhhh ... back to my Bodum made, soy creamer fused, stevia sweetened, organic coffee that is so strong, I swear it curls my hair just a little bit more.

Back to my delicious ionized water that has an exterior run off option that will clear the acne that literally reared ugly heads in Alberta.

Wow.  This is going to be a 3 day job to get my beautiful skin back.  Not to mention, that amazing water will smooth out the wrinkles that have become more obviously indented from the piercing cold and dry air.

Oh, pretty femme, please be patient!  And please, please, please don't touch the repugnant uprisings!  You don't have to check that they're still there!  I can promise you they are.

Back to trying to write to 'you', my imaginary friend, while cats are doing their best to convince me to feed them with mind melting stares, attention seeking behavior that requires the spray bottle to be revealed as a threat and desperate meowing pleas.  Apparently, they've forgotten that I tend to myself before them, the same way we are taught to do so on those airplanes time and again.  It seems they got their way with Papi for the weekend.

But apart from all that, I got the greatest part of being back home last night; my love.

It became even more clear that we're a good match for each other in more ways than the obvious.  My dear had a rough weekend of emotional turmoil.

Papi was told, the same way I was when I went to visit mi esposo's transgender psychologist, that the depression and anxiety would calm now that there is hope to be in the body that my love has seen in the mind of truth since being a fledgling.

Papi went off all medication because of the joy of male transformation is now a bigger, brighter light at the end of the tunnel.  I was also convinced that this would be a mood altering, peaceful time for mi esposo.

However, I do believe that Papi will have to wait a while before the real alleviation of mental anguish sets in.  I'm going to assume that this peace will come for my love when there are more obvious signs that there is a new person in the mirror and in the way clothing will hang.

Upon entering the carousel for luggage, I had my happy hugs and kisses from my love at the airport.  I didn't know there was trouble brewing for Papi.  There was too much delight to be shared.

During the ride home, I witnessed the stress that had been there for my love over the past 3 days, but it was when we got home and settled that I really saw what was going on.

When my love is impatient with the demon of a chihuahua, that's when I know that there's a problem.

Papi went back on medication yesterday when the feeling of throwing the tiny creature out the window was offered up as an option.

I get these emotions.  I understand way too much how it is confusing to be such a loving person, yet I can experience homicidal thoughts in the exchange of a breath.

My love was almost in tears from the suffering of this affliction.  Yet, by the end of our 'welcome home' visit, we were laughing and turned on a show we like to watch with each other; Wipeout.  It's fun to watch people willingly destroying themselves physically.

There were deep belly laughs and squinting of eyes, accompanied by the pinched face of, "Oooh, that's gotta hurt," reactions to body parts being slammed into great red foam obstacles, followed by flailing limbs grasping for air as they are propelled to the water.

By the time my eyes were drooping, I could feel my love's energy had returned to a peaceful place.  We balanced out the pain just by being in each others' presence. 

We have this effect on one another.  There really hasn't been anything in our relationship that hasn't be calmed without a loving cuddle and distraction of laughs.

Two peas in a pod.

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