Stupid Traveling

Stoker is going to L.A. for a week. Stupid traveling.

Is it better to have loved and lost, than to have not loved at all? I’m sure that the poet who coined that brilliant phrase wasn’t feeling heartache when they wrote it down. It’s so easy to think positive thoughts when you’re already feeling good.

Well. I’m trying to be supportive of Stoker’s travels. I really am. But if you asked him, he’d probably tell you I’m not very good at it. And I’m not. I admit it. I’m horrible. We went on a walk yesterday in the beautiful foggy, smoggy, Sunday chill, and he was talking about the cool things he’s going to do while he’s there and I got sulky and silent. It’s really beyond me to seem happy about something when I’m not. I’m terrible and I have no poker face. The one time in my life when I got a royal flush, everyone folded before I could even raise the bet. It may not have been a royal flush. It might have been just a straight flush. But still, what are the odds of that? I was only 9 or something and it was my first time playing poker. (We were camping in the mountains and I was playing with my infamous cousins, Justin and Greg, and their dad, Larry.) So, I can’t hide a royal flush—we’ll just keep calling it that—and I can’t hide jealousy, fear of loss, or any serious emotion. Even the silly ones, like glee.

Stoker is going to L.A. with a bunch of friends from work. Maybe not friends, exactly, as in the best friends, buddies-you-grew-up-with kind of friends. But not me, and that can be a rather terrible feeling. Ok, there are worse feelings, like if he was going to L.A. and he’d just broken up with me. That would be worse. Or if he was going to L.A. and he wasn’t going to miss me and he actually said, “I won’t really miss you.” Anyway, he’s going to a music retailer’s convention and I’m jealous that I won’t be there to see all the cool things with him. I hate jealousy. It’s awful. I also hate NAMM, the music convention. How can I hate a music convention? you ask. For several reasons, the first and foremost being that I won’t be there. I’m really like that, able to hate a large, faceless entity. Secondly, there will undoubtedly be music retailers selling their wares with scantily clad, big-breasted women. Classless. I’m sure of it. I heard all about the retailers who did it last year. Stupid women who let themselves be objectified like that. Anyway, I know I can’t shield Stoker from the world. I know I can’t stop him from looking at other women and appreciating them. I don’t like it that he does and will, and I never will like it. I will grow old and stop being sexy with tight skin, healthy breasts and a skinny, fit body, and there will always be younger, more beautiful women. And he will notice. And that will hurt. I know our relationship is based on more than looks and sexiness. But I still want to be attractive and desirable.

Anyway. Stoker isn’t a guy who gapes. He doesn’t stare at other girls when I’m around him. Really, as far as I can tell, he’s perfect. He doesn’t objectify women and he’s a very forward thinker. I believe in him and in his heart. He has three sisters who he’s very protective of, and a good mother who taught him that girls have feelings too. My point is, is that these things are all MY fears, not based on anything Stoker has done or said (also, I don't trust other women--they're conniving and evil....sometimes). I really love that boy. He’s the best. I just hate it that he’s going to be gone for a week. I will miss him. It sucks, not being in the same time zone as the person you really really love.