Armed with Cheesecake and Vodka, World Watch Out, I'm Back!

They say that it is good to write. It is good to write your feelings especially if one cannot express feelings to another. It helps to open the soul, help to heal, remember the good times, and reflect on the bad. I try to write every day, but most days I delete the things that I write, since I know other’s will read and feel the sadness in my heart. The sadness is one of the only things I have and at times I do not want to share the sadness, I want to keep it inside and countdown until I can go home, lay in bed and let out the sadness so no one can hear. I feel that I must stay strong for the people around me. I want others to see my as strong, that I can take care of myself and that I will survive. They do not need to know the truth of what really is going on in my heart and soul. Sometimes it seems like a battle. Not necessarily of good and evil but of love and guilt. I lay awake at night thinking of everything we had planned to do, how we were going to live and the memories...

I started by telling everyone I was going to get a tattoo for my fortieth birthday. Deep down I wanted one but the idea of someone sticking needles in my skin over and over scared the living crap out of me. I had seen many nice designs and wanted something that represented my son and my husband. I finally decided with friends help that it was going to be a bee, like the honey nut cheerios bee. The B would represent the initial of their first name. I remember when my husband and I were dating we finally made the huge step of moving in together, the similarity of their names would confuse us all. After weeks of chaos and the men ignoring me when I would call them, we finally decided to call my son Little B and my husband Big B. When I was mad and ready to yell out my son's name, I would always blurt out the name of my husband, which would make them both wonder who I was really calling and usually upsetting my son, with him saying that I do not remember his name, and my husba...