The month from hell...

Thank God it's nearly over. I will, from this year forward, erase the month of September from my calendar. These hurricanes have wreaked havoc on all of us—even me, who wasn't anywhere near them.

Tommy rode Rita out in Houston. Got back yesterday. I'm glad I didn't know he'd stayed, or I really would have freaked out. Well, we talked twice—the last time when he was going over to his daughter's for dinner. He put me on hold & then we were disconnected—never called back despite my way too numerous calls. Well, I'd been drinking all day—had dreamed about him all night & just woke up in a bad place. I never expected to hear from him again, & then there's his beautiful voice on the other end of the line, which put me on a crying jag that lasted the rest of the day. Never cried so much in my entire life than I have this month. Or drank so much. I do not want any of this to repeat, ever... Amazing what stress can do to a person...

I can only hope I didn't piss him off so much he won't call back. God only knows what I said to his voicemail, though blessedly I did not leave lengthy messages (gotta love phone logs!).

I also confronted him head-on about there being another woman. There isn't anyone. He isn't involved, or even fucking anyone else. This is a good sign...

All we need is the physical reconnection—that's it. Everything will fall into place from there—have zero doubts. Just hold onto each other. Forever. It'll happen...when we come together physically. I think he's been afraid of that, knows what will happen as a result—completing the circle we began in '78. Making a commitment. Making things permanent. I don't think he's quite ready. It is scary, but something that has been destined to happen ever since we first met...

Now I must await his return call. I've made enough in the past twenty four hours to last an entire week...