I'm counting the hours no less than I was at home. In fact, it's worse. There, I had kids to look forward to and the bits of time John would come over. While not what I hoped, any time with him was always welcome. Not having the tedium and responsibility of my own life isn't the break I expected. I have to be responsible here too, but without the comfort of familiarity. I don't know the routine here or little things that shouldn't matter as much as they do, like where the ketchup is kept. I'm crying over that or the comments and questions Grandma has because she doesn't know John left me. "Does John leave before the kids go to school?" had me answering as if I choked, and my stomach tightened into the hard, little knot that has become so familiar.

10:16 p.m. - Visiting the Past

I never thought about the memories being here would stir. Both days, Grandma wanted to go to her house, so we drove past the base--where we got married, where we lived, where I had Booie. We lived in this very house. I'm sleeping in the very place I slept with him. I remember the arguments too, lying here crying, the books piled by my bedside, the calendar on the wall, how close I felt to breaking the way he has broken. It hasn't always been good, and I don't deny that. But I feel I have made such changes so that I won't bring that resentment into our marriage anymore. I'm no longer holding onto all those sad, angry, and hopeless feelings. I believe I can make a much happier future. If he will let me. If he will try too.

I don't know how I end up feeling even worse by being here. The desperation intensified so dramatically, and it has been a struggle to keep from writing him the long, emotional emails I so want to send. But I do know that would be for me, not him, and he needs to be first for a while. It is so hard to do nothing, to be helpless. Removing myself seemed such a good idea, but the distance didn't do anything for the pain.

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One Year Ago Today: