Back Out to Sea

I laid there still for a long, long time. My eyes fixed on nothing. My mind racing and shuddering like an engine that is about 10,000 miles overdue for an oil change. I did not want to leave this place. I did not want to return to the world that awaited me 450 miles northeast of here. I wanted time to stop. I wanted it to be possible for Mike and I to live out the rest of our days drinking expensive wine and tequila, fishing for our dinner in the Taneycomo, and watching the sun come up over rolling, tree-covered hills as far as the eye could see. Maybe we would even pick up a funny accent and learn how to play the banjo so we could star in our own country show on the strip. We could become natives and laugh at the tourists taking pictures of things we saw everyday. Yes, I thought. Let's do that. Let's stay here. If we stay here, time will stand still.

Of course, most newly-weds are a little disheartened on the last day of their honeymoon-- even if they could only afford to go to Branson, Missouri. But for us, it wasn't just the end of a wonderful memory. It wasn't just time for us to "grow up." For us, it meant setting back out into that damned black water. It meant giving up the rafts and sailing away from the lights onshore. There was nothing to look forward to. There was nothing to keep our mind off the inevitable. There was just... nothing. And it was all hitting me as I curled into the plush comforter of the king-size bed. That stupid voice was coming back. She is going to die... and now you aren't even pregnant. What if you can't even HAVE kids. What then? You have to deal with it now. There is nothing else to deal with. No happy interjections to get caught up in, no baby showers or homecomings to prepare for... You have to go back to your life. And guess what? Your life really fucking sucks.

I wiped at the tears. This was becoming all too common. How many pillow cases was I going to ruin with mascara stains? Better build that into the monthly budget. Or learn how to get mascara stains out of pillow cases. Yes, that would probably be a much better option. We packed up our belongings, threw them in the car and headed away from our tiny oasis. It was time to go back to our problems. It was time to quit pretending that everything was fine. The honeymoon was literally over. It was time to begin dealing with everything that had happened in the last three and a half months. Sink or swim, we were going back out into the water.