Cydniey Buffers (cydniey) wrote,
Cydniey Buffers
cydniey

End of the Year Review

The fireworks down at the park have started going off. It’s not even 9. Felix thought it was gun shots at first and ran to the window. Nope. I wonder where people have parked, they still have the road to the park and in front of it. There are bright street lights, so you can make your way on foot. It’s a small but popular park. It has three dog park areas. They rotate the one that is closed for reseeding and cleaning. Then they have one for small dogs and one for big dogs. Chewy likes the big dog area, they tend to be older and less aggressive. The younger families in the neighborhood all have small, obnoxious dogs that are about as well behaved as their screaming spawn. The older couples tend to have larger dogs that they have had forever and never use leashes and respond to a click of the tongue on the teeth. And four times around it is a mile, and it’s scenic with shrubbery and grasses and a small creek fed by the run off of the sprinklers and water fountains. It has three playgrounds, all covered with huge canopies to shade them (I never saw such a thing back east, it’s pretty much universal here), and lined with thick rubber and wood chips. This is a pretty cool park. And there’s a bathroom facility, so it’s a great place to hold neighborhood parties. They do fireworks all year round over there.


The log just fell/got pulled off the back gate. Do I let the dog out? He could get hurt. No, I’ll keep him in. Okay, someone is definitely in the back yard. They are behind me now, looking in the window. It’s open just an inch and I can hear the dried leaves being stepped on. It’s too late to shut the back security gate. The only way in is with a sledgehammer. It’s not cops, they would make much more noise, and they don’t raid the wrong houses out here. I’m just going to chill out. If I get really creeped out, I will shut all the blinds. I know who it is, I know he’s drunk, and I know he’s just fucking with me because he knows Doc is at work and I won’t call the cops on him. He’s making a lot of fucking noise, though. Now Simon is all upset, and there goes Vader to kick Felix out of the window. I’m going into the kitchen to smoke. Can’t see me from there. Even him watching the back of my head as I type is creepy.


Okay, the animals are going back to sleeping positions. I think he’s gone. What an ass. At least he came over early before Doc got home and went out and kicked his ass. I’d do it, but he’s a woman beater, has no problem getting brutal with a woman, and I’m pretty sure he fights dirtier than I do and I would lose. I would at least lose more teeth. And he doesn’t have any to knock out, which puts me at a disadvantage, because that is kind of my specialty.


Okay, year in review .  . . Nothing completely tragic happened in 2015. There were lots of little hills to get up, but then there were the slides down (and I mean that in a good way). I stayed away from my family. I stayed out of the hospital. I’m not pregnant. We lost a couple of cats this year, but I don’t want to talk about it, because I still can’t. I could at first, but not any more. It hurts too much. We got Boomer, or Boo, this year. She is a great addition to the family.


2016 is going to be . . . weird. I have my own thing to do while things go on around me. I let Doc know today, I don’t want to know the process, I just want to know the results and what I am expected to do. For my part, I will keep up on my meds, and keep trying to cut back on the green meds. Whatever comes, comes. I am a strong person, no matter how much of that feeling I have forgotten. I have survived the unspeakable, even by me. I’m still here, and I’m still thriving. I can take anything that happens. And if I imagine that the worst is going to happen hard enough, it won’t. And I will be honest, right now my mind is on all of the worst. I’m holding together for Doc, because that is what we do. He has held me up for 19 years, and now, he needs me, finally. And I will be there for him. I can never imagine what he is going through, because my response to the same situation would be greeted with joy, not grief. But I know what it is like to slowly lose someone close to you, either through death or . . .  other things. I know how it is to let someone you love slip away. And I don’t envy him that.


This century is working out much better than I expected it to, now that I am focused in, instead of out. On Doc and I and not the world. We may not be able to save the world, but I’m sure, as we approach 16 years of marriage and almost 20 together, that we can save each other. And that is all that matters. That is all I need. Just the opportunity to love him, or show him I love him, 1/10th as much as he has shown/loved me.


And 2016 is the year that he starts playing the ukulele and I start playing the guitar. Maybe he’ll start writing again. He’s a secret poet. I’ve found his poems here and there, but I don’t read them unless they are meant for me. He expresses himself poetically in a way he never can seem to when speaking or in prose. It’s very personal. The few things he has written me, I treasure.


Once again, Happy New Year, everyone! May 2016 bring all of us great things.

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