There's no place like home...well maybe in 28 days.

I left Morgantown, West Virginia in the early 80's with a diploma in one hand and excitement in my heart.  I was going home!  And, even though I didn't have a real job, I had A job and it was only until I got married in August.  Anybody can do this...about nine weeks of work and wedding merriment and then I was on my way.  I would soon be a married woman, moving  west, how hard could this be?

Well, let me tell you, it sucked.  I will take this opportunity to tell you that my mom is my best friend and she is a fabulous mother BUT it was hard.  I was 23 just got out of college and it was hard.  Imagine being in summer camp and the Land of Oz with no degree, no money and a ton of charges by your name.  Moving home is not easy.

I can still remember my dad sitting at the kitchen table,while I did the diner dishes,  drinking endless cups of coffee, smoking Pall Malls, clearing his throat about 1 million times and each time my skin crawled even faster.  My mom's obsession with her bathroom closet and  how I folded and put the towels away sent me over the edge.  You see, the folds of the towels had to  face you when you opened the closet and the the light colored towels at the top and the dark colored towels at the bottom of the pile was how she wanted it done.  My grandmother was convinced that because I could not make a pie crust, my marriage would not last and my resistance to learn devastated her.  Maybe she had something there because we didn't even make it down the aisle.

And then, about thirty days into the sentence, the wedding was called off.  Hmmmm, now what? Not getting married, no job, no moving west and I won't be leaving home anytime soon.  Forget the love gone wrong, how about the fact that I wasn't going anywhere?

More cleared throats, the pie crust thing was out but we still had towels to fold.

I did what every jilted, unemployed lover does, I grabbed my brother and went to Switzerland.  I ran away.

And then after frolicking in the Swiss Alps, BOTH of us came back.  The cycle continued.

So, the "button" returns, and regardless of where you have been, once you leave it is NEVER the same.  I left my first marriage once and returned.  Never was it the same.  I left home, and it is was never  the same.  There is a reason they have meetings for spouses after one returns from deployment.  It is a hard transition.

The "button" does not want to be here.  He would rather be anywhere than here.  He has already taken off for one night.  He took off and we had no idea where he was, when he would be back or what his intentions were and would be when he returned.  He did what I did, he ran. He has returned but the tension and the anger and the desire to be anywhere but here is so obvious. The cycle continues and  I am not even obsessed with the folds of the towels.

What are we going to do?  I have no clue.  My gut, which usually serves me well, has no answers this time.  It has been about 10 days  since he returned home and I am clueless. 

I layed awake ALL night last night and nothing came to me.  Disappointment, sadness and anger and most of all, CONFUSION.  The first six days were great, awesome, hopeful and almost magical, the best six days we have had in two years and then the weekend came.  With the weekend came lies, old habits and old "friends", everything that we worried about.

It is amazing to me that treatment facilities are 28 days.  What the hell?  Twenty-eight days?
It takes people years and months to develop a problem  and then admit they have one but they are supposed to fix it in 28 days.  Wonder why the relapse so quickly?  The Biggest Loser gives those people 90 days and workouts twice a day for 90 days.  You are better off to be addicted to Big Macs, cheesecakes and buffalo wings than you are anything else.  Yet, addiction problems continue to rise, especially in 18-24 year olds and they only get 28 days to fix them or they are deemed a failure.  It took me 28 days to learn my way around campus.  Twenty-eight days to find, figure out, fix and finish demons.  Seriously, snipe hunts would be more productive.

Ten days ago I felt like I was OZ, putting my "button" in a big balloon and getting home to start his life with his big do over.  Today I feel like Eeyore with a tack in my behind.  

It is a gray Monday as well.  Monday, diet day.  The good news is I have years to lose the baby weight I gained with Addie before she gets married.  The "button" has so much to fix and his days are numbered and he is trying to do it at home.

I need to go and fold towels and pray for answers.