Broken fingers and broken hearts.

~Oct. 03, 2003~

I come home today and J tells me that Tristan has slammed Jared's finger in the door and that it's broken. Jared's right middle finger. The tip is completely purple and the nail is black as pitch. He's favoring that hand, but he's not carrying on about it. I can only imagine what it must have been like when he did it. In a way I'm glad I wasn't here for it 'cause I don't deal well with that sort of thing. In a way I wish I had been so I could have comforted him. So he's got a broken finger to go with the broken heart he'll have tomorrow.

J leaves tomorrow. Granted, we'll be meeting up with him while we're on vacation as well, but the boys don't know that. All they'll know is that someone they care about isn't there anymore, and I don't know how to explain it to them. I really don't.

I've never seen the boys respond to someone the way they have to him. Even before we were dating and Jared took off running at him in the parking lot. Granted, I wanted to kill him for running from me like that, especially in a parking lot, but I was surprised that he did it at all.

Two weeks and I go on vacation. Some of that time I'm looking forward to. Some of it I'm dreading immensely. Like the getting up at 3:40 to get the boys to the sitter and make it to work on time. Or the days with no one but the boys to talk to. And I'll end up right back where I was a year ago, a stone's throw from a nervous breakdown. No wonder I hate the Navy...

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