Monday, April 05, 2004

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Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
Woke up on the couch. Super Nurse must certainly be home. She certainly was. Not in kitchen, check fridge - sandwich not eaten, oh well, check bathroom- nothing, check bedroom- she's laying there looking at book orders for the kids. God she's beautiful. She said she just wasn't hungry because she ate that much for lunch. Okay. I told her I'd checked out the cranial nerves on the web and the ones involving the eyes were more complicated than I could understand. I couldn't figure out how to bang my head to fix my eye problem. She was glad. She rolls away from me and I snuggle up behind her. It's just bliss to be so close.

Can't go to sleep. Try to go to sleep. Can't go to sleep and a half-hour's gone. Must have been all the napping. I whisper "I'm sorry." She half-rolls back and says "huh?" Thought she was asleep, crap. Wanted to tell her, "I'm sorry I'm such a burden. You and the kids deserve so much better. I'm sorry you married me." Just too much of a coward to say it while she was awake. Can't sleep. Wait another half-hour and get out of bed, might as well blog.

I hate this tumor. I hate feeling like a burden. I hate wishing my kids had a better father. I hate wishing my wife had a better husband. I hate wishing I wasn't me. Dammit, I'm crying again. I've cried too much lately.

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