Monday Doesn't Get Any Easier

Keeping up on work while dealing with the fragile health of my father is mentally taking a toll.  I spend an inordinate amount of the time working on my novel instead of work.  I am reliving the past through hundreds of posts.  I have not even made it to the time Billy and I dated.  I am still working on organizing the early years after my divorce when Tinkerbell and her son were a big part of my life.

Yesterday I was missing Billy.  It was this feeling inside my chest just below the surface.  An ache I have learned to live with and mostly ignore in the last few weeks.  Last night it came bubbling to the surface.  I want so badly to call or text Billy.  What good would it have done?  Probably none. 

I called Tinkerbell instead.  It was after six, but she was still at work.   She works so hard for so little pay.  "What are you doing?"  I ask. 

She proceeds to tell me she is working on schedules because tomorrow she is working from home and picking up a new kitten with The T-Rex. 

"I am having a hard day." I tell her.  I want to say more but I get choked up and cannot continue.  There is concern in her voice. She tell me she will call me from the car.  "Just give me twenty minutes, " she says.

While I am waiting for her call  I get a text from Billy.  I swear we are psychically connected.  "Hey is my medical card at your house?"  She means her insurance card.  I have not seen it around. I do not respond.  Ten minutes goes by  and I get another text from her."I cannot seem to find it, let me know if you see it.  How are you?"

I want to say so many different things in response.  Medical card are you okay?  Terrible, I think about you ever day. You left me for a stupid dream and a little boy who lives in his mom's basement how do you think I am?  I do not.  I wait for Tinkerbell.

Tinkerbell calls on her drive home.  "She cannot have it both ways,"  Tink tells me.  "It is not fair to you."  I know this.  Despite the fact I tell her I cannot be in contact with her, Billy cannot go a week without reaching out to me.  She misses me.  That makes me both happy and angry at the same time.

Forty-five minutes after her initial text I reply.  "It is not here."