First Day of School...For Billy
Monday, August 30th, 2004
First Day of School...For Billy
A Dom Entry
Billy went back to school today. I suppose that's kind of nice, since I get to pick him up instead of finding him in bed when I get home. The kids don't show up for another week, but he says he has to be ready for them when they come. The little scoundrels.
I had a pretty moderate day at work. Mick-Mack actually helped with sorting today, and I got the rounds done in about an hour less time. I was thinking of Billy, though. It's kind of funny that I think of him more now, when things really haven't changed; we're still apart for the same amount of time each day, and I can't see him no matter how much I want to. (I always pray for deliveries to the school, but I've concluded that Towerston must deal with all of that. It's a bloody shame. I should mail something to the school then).
I think it feels different now because I can't be sure anymore where he is and what he's doing. This whole summer I've been griping about how he's "probably at home, sleeping the day out," and now I wish he were still doing that. Now I don't know what to think. He's in a different city, after all. He's farther away and he's working and probably getting frustrated or anxious or anything. I wish all year were summer so he could just sleep in and not have to think about doing anything. I hope things are going well for him at work.
I want to hear about his new class when it arrives. That is... All of the kids. I want to know about them. Last year, he never really told me much about them. I didn't get to know the biggest brat, or the teacher's pet, or the poor little kid that everyone tends to pick on for no reason. I remember all of that, back in school. I'd always get picked on for comics. Jocks hated me. Even though Dad made me play football. I guess kids remind me of myself. Not only because I still act like one, and I know I do, but because they're still trying their best to fit in, like I used to. I wish someone could tell them how much better it is to be yourself.
Anyway, I don't know why I'm writing all of this down. Doesn't really sound like my usual entry. I've been having these disjointed thoughts... Like, Bill's school, my letters, what the cats are eating, you know... I don't know why. Things are changing again. It makes everything feel different. Even though some things are staying the same.
I picked up Billy today and he looked a lot brighter than he usually does when I get back from work. He was awake, thinking about things. He started talking right away, about work and home, asking me about the post office... I suppose your mind's really working after you've been up for nine hours or so... I imagined, actually, that he'd be tired; worn out. I thought I'd take him home and lay him down and make him feel cozy; take care of him. But he was pretty happy to be up and moving again. It gives him a purpose, I suppose.
It's funny. I'm jealous. You know, you can't really be jealous of the time someone puts into their job versus the time they put into you, right? Maybe you can. I'm not the only thing in his life worth living for anymore.
Maybe that's why I want to know about it; know why he loves it so much. I want to know the feeling that he gets when he comes home after being with those kids all day, and understand why he'd ever want to go back and do it over in the morning. Funny, that. When you love someone, you really want to be a part of everything that they are. I can't even understand, myself, how strongly I want to know all about him.
I should go see him now. He must be reading in the other room. I want to pull off his glasses and kiss him softly, and when I've finally got his attention, I'll ask him how his day was. Again.
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