If you were to read the texts between Eddie and I, you would think we were either hopelessly romantic, or clinically insane. Sometimes it will be an elaborately written out lyric that’s been going through one of our head’s all day, “Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Poker face.” And answered with an exuberant, “CAN’T READ MY, CAN’T READ MY, NO HE CAN’T READ MY POKER FACE!” And followed up with an, “I HATE that song!” In the Army, during long, horrible staff meetings, we would text a list of what limbs we’d be willing to cut off in order to be somewhere else. And, if you haven’t noticed by my husband’s comments on this blog, he’s a bit of a romantic, so sometimes he writes me short poems. He texts and sends them one line at a time, so although in the end they don’t always make complete sense, they’re remarkable in sentiment.
Today at work, I stole a few seconds to read Eddie’s latest joke via text, “What does a grape do when it gets stepped on? It lets out a little wine.” It reminded me that I forgot my grapes. I bring a small amount of bite-size food to stuff in my purse and gradually eat it throughout the day so my stomach isn’t growling like crazy, but this morning I forgot. In the last hours of my day, I normally send a text to Eddie, “Grapes are keeping me alive today,” or “Starbursts are keeping me alive today,” or “Ritz crackers are keeping me alive today.” Instead when I realized how famished I was and had no food to save me, I texted Eddie, “I have nothing to keep me alive today.” I went back to playing music for several more minutes and when I looked at my phone later, it read, “My love will keep you alive.” Aw.