"But that's Bigamy!" "No, that's Big o' ME!"

Well, Yesterday was very VERY Friday the 13th-ish I must say. I fell asleep crying and didn't write so I will recap now.

First of all, I had another visit with my neurologist because some test results were in and my headache was off the charts.

So, I have sleep apnea (kel surprise *rolling eyes*) and will be going in for the dreaded overnight in the center test on Wednesday. But it IS likely a major contributer to my headaches and insomnia because I don't breath and therefore don't sleep.

I also have 3 small milky lesions on my brain. They are "probably nothing, but we'd like to investigate further." (doctor speak for 'Be careful, this chick has panic attacks and will freak out') (p.s. If I could I would post my MRI (I didn't... those ones I used to illustrate in a past post were just a random GoogleImage, you know?) but I don't HAVE it, the doctors do.)

Hey, Dr. Euphemism! Lesions are not nothing. Nothing in my brain is nothing. My brain is important to me. Pretty much my favorite part. The rest of me can't play Scrabble or read Elizabeth Bishop. Don't feed me crap and tell me it's chocolate. I can taste the difference.

So... yeah. Tests, tests, and more TESTS. Sigh.

I am feeling so... just ILL right now... and it has little to do with the thought of eating crap. Just the thought of my medical reality... and the actuality of my regular "breakfast" of 8 pills swimming around in my stomach.

The thing of it is not only was Friday the 13th hard on my brain, but it sure did a number on my heart.

The saga of the TexasBoy just got more... complicated.... Timing-wise.

Back story: Right after Katrina, there was Rita that pummeled my mission... and the location of TexasBoy and so I was just freaking out here in Utah (during Meg and Jake's wedding actually) with each sporadic text of update to here about his safety and I get a text that he had been evacuated and that, I think was the last I heard before nothing. So there was a time before finding out he was SAFE (and on LinkUp) that I wasn't feeling hurt... I was terrified that he had died or something.

But it turns out it was THEN, during Rita, he had been falling in love with the girl he eventually married. I feel like I was cheated on... what I wasn't. We weren't exclusive. We weren't even living in the same state. We were best friends. He could have told me. He should have told me. I would have cried... but he would never have known that. I would have told him how happy I was for him. I would have sent them a gift, a good one.

I think I loved him.

I would have pretended to be happy for him... I feel almost like I still have to... like I have to be happy because he is happy and proud of him for finding someone for eternity but all the while feeling so sad, sick, angry, hurt, ripped open, and torn to bits. My heart is motion sick.

And now it is today. I'm a little annoyed at my ward and need to talk to my Bishop but that needs to come, well, LATER.

Spencer came over with a video tape of The Office and we laughed really really hard "...and another guy came and kicked my soul in the groin..." and that rocked. I LOVE my baby bro... and The Office. *snort* hee hee!

And then I decided to face my "demon" of the day...

The fun.y thing about the whole "writing a letter" for closure idea is that I did it. I wrote one some time back. I wrote a big "you should have said good bye, you big ass." That should have done it. But it didn't. Will a "congratulations on you blushing bride... you still should have said good bye, you big ass." do it?

Hope so.

Because I just DID. *gulp*








And I don't need him in my head when I am talking about Reno and Pumpkin Pancakes with someone else. <:O) SIGH!