ashes

The first day of school has come and gone. I am no longer Brandon the Writer and coffee shop-goer. I am Brandon the Teacher. I remembered something about life before Chad. I found so much of ‘myself’ in my work. I sorta defined myself by it. I was Brandon the Youth Treatment Counselor. With Chad, work was something I just did—it did very little to define me. As it should be. Now, unfortunately, I am back in the role of Brandon as Teacher, and attempting to find some solid ground and safety there, as it seems there isn’t really any in the real world. I was really hoping he’d text to see how my day was. I knew he wouldn’t. Why would he remember today was the day the kids came back? His life doesn’t revolve around a bunch of scary children or me. However, it was my first day of beginning school of him not sending me off, texting to see how the day was going, calling after work, or coming home to me when he got done. To him, its just another day in the life he wants and chose. To me, its another reminder of how much he loved me, how much he doesn’t any longer, and of all I have had and lost.

On a completely brighter note, I wish to share a lovely mental picture with you. I was on my way to hear TB teach/preach yesterday. On the way, I drove by a firehouse. In the driveway, four or five firemen had set up their workout equipment, lifting weights and helping each other through calisthenics. Two or three of them had their shirts off. These weren’t the firemen you see in real life, these were the ones that stepped out of the firemen calendars. I nearly skipped church and sat in my car across from them—at least until they called the cops and had me arrested. There are not words to describe the scene. I have no idea why these gorgeous firemen are working in the burbs, but I think I may take another trip out there and set myself on fire.