My heart is breaking.

It's thoroughly amazing how quickly I am able to fall back into my regular routine and my regular life. I guess that part of that ability is good...I am able to distract myself from the crushing pain in my chest when I'm making bottles and fixing Kate breakfasts after breakfasts. I'm able to distract myself from the feeling of losing air, like a leak from an air mattress, when I'm cleaning and doing laundry. So, it's good. I guess.

The only trouble is that as soon as I stop doing something to distract myself, the pain and the sensation of not being able to breathe is ten times worse and it feels as though my legs might crumble beneath me. I'm scared to unpack my suitcase. Scared to smell that single apartment smell on my clothes. And even more scared to dare to wash it away.

I have the words, "chop wood, carry water" in my head. And that's what I'm trying to do. Only trouble is that the wood is getting more and more difficult to chop without losing a hand. And that water is getting heavier and heavier.

So, while I eat my breakfast and shiver because it's cold and damp and raining here at home, I thought that I would give you a bit of what I know you crave. Details.

I'm snagging the idea for this post from MellowDee and now bring you the weekend's top ten. If I listed everything, we'd be here all fucking day, so I'll have to pick ten.

We still might be here all fucking day.

1. Arriving. Following the corridors in the Manchester airport and willing my feet to move faster, faster, faster. Until my legs were almost galloping. Reaching an escalator, leading down to an open area, climbing on and instantly catching sight of Don, sitting, looking anxious, waiting. Running down the escalator, despite knowing better and not wanting to fall on my first visit to New Hamsphire. Finding him and falling into him. And feeling like I had all the time in the world to fall into him. The rest of Friday. Three whole days afterwards. All the time in the world. I'd give anything for that feeling again.

2. Seeing the apartment. The grown up apartment that up until now, I had only seen in pictures. Feeling this odd, but wonderful sense of comfort with every nook and every cranny I examined. Like I was somehow getting more of him. Like I was somehow making myself permanent in his "regular life" even if I wasn't going to be permanently there. Lke somehow, if I put my jacket down by the door, if I tossed my shoes off, I could make it real. Really real. I could make it so.

3. The trip to the drugstore to replace what was in my luggage, sitting in an airport. These are in no particular order because if they were, this might be number one, as nerdy as that sounds. That trip to the CVS was magical. I love being out and about with Don. Love touching him next to the tampons and pads. Love kissing him after picking out foundation and hoping it's the right one. Love strolling down the aisles with him, my arms and my hands rarely breaking contact. Love knowing that this is what he was dreaming of. Love living what I had envisioned. Feeling as though we had time on our side. Janet and Don in a drugstore. And nothing could be better.

4. The nights. Skin to skin. Warm and pulsating. Bodies in motion, hearts beating against one another, words choked out in a whisper, gasps of air gaining in intensity. Never looking at a clock because it surely didn't matter. On and on and on until two are one and nothing could be more perfect. Nothing could be more right. Creating a new rule about my shirt. After all of the preparing and all of the hoping, finally having him right where I wanted him, watching his face, eyes sometimes open most often closed, jaw moving, small grunts and quiet murmurs the only sound interupting my whispered words. Curling up on my right side, his arms so tight around me, I have never felt more safe and more loved. Falling asleep almost reluctantly, like sleep was an insult.

5. The mornings. Sleeping in. Waking up next to him and taking forever to get out of bed. The energy different in the daylight, but the need to touch, the need for contact, just as great. Finally getting out of bed. Showering. Getting ready. Taking my time in the apartment. Loving the sun. Loving him being there while I got ready. His presence. Gathering up what was needed and heading out. Together.

6. Target. Oh. My. God. Target. You guys don't know how good you've got it. Oh. My. God. Target.

7. The cranky grocery store trip. Filling his cart with more food than he has ever purchased at one time. Knowing that if it's there, he will eat it. Little by little, knowing that I am breaking through the crust, the exterior. The shell. The defense. Shouting, "I'VE SEEN THAT ON TV!" with every aisle we turned down. Feeling like we're getting screwed here in Canada. Not only with our prices (we are getting fucked, guys...our dollar is the same, but the stuff there is so much cheaper...shouldn't our prices now be the same, or closer at least if our dollar is the same?!) but also with the selection...what does Canada have against Apple Jacks and Trix?

8. The talking. And talking. The therapeutic talking. The crying. The questions and the affirmations that neither of us will lose hope. Neither of us will give up. Not for anything. Knowing that we are stronger together but this time feeling our strength when we are wrapped up in a nation of two.

9. The food. Eating like I really was on vacation. And loving every minute of it. Roast beef with BBQ sauce and cheese. Fried mushrooms. Burgers on toast. Ice cream sundaes. Meatball subs. French bread pizza that takes way too long to make. Crackers and cheese in a can. Jagerbombs and Twisted Tea. Chocolate. Cake.

10. The ocean. Don has posted pictures of us if you haven't already checked them out. Sitting together, in his spot. The sun. The warmth. The waves. The hypnotizing sound. The pure energy. The ocean. And us..

And now my heart is breaking all over again, so it's time for Operation Distract Janet. Off I go.