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Black Hills Rally Blues

My husband returned from Sturgis today. The sun really tanned him and he seemed truly happy to see me. It hurt to not be able to go, but I resolved myself to the reality of not being able to go, ever. It made me feel better to hear that I was on his mind. He missed me taking photographs. He missed me when he was in Missoula at Cracker Barrel. He remembered that we wanted two of those white rockers for the back porch in our Packwood home.

I believe him. The tears of lost dreams glisten in his eyes, breaking my heart. He brought me gifts from Sturgis but he didn't have to. I wanted a t-shirt but he brought me two plus an official scarf and a hat from the 75th anniversary of the Black Hills Rally. He told me where he went and what he did. He told me who he saw, including one of my best friends, Anne.

I'm glad my husband found non-drinking friends to be with while he was in Sturgis. The Black Hills Rally is a non-stop party and he admitted that he wanted a drink. I'm grateful he had people to be with him that weren't bent on being shit-faced drunk. To be honest, I was worried that he wanted to meet up with my girlfriend. I mean, it's not like I've been able to be much of a wife for a long time to my husband. To increase my anxiety, I haven't seen her since I've been in the nursing home system. My mind runs amok.

Good thing that I learned, "Just because I think it, doesn't make it so."  My brain goes to dark and scary places, left to it's own devices. They met outside of Sturgis and she rode on his Harley with him to Sturgis. I should be happy but that made me sad. That was my place. I'm still alive.

Oh well. These are my insecurities. Nether my husband nor my girlfriend have given me any reason to distrust them. My girlfriend sent me a jeweled motorcycle pin. I love it. I hope she visits sometime.

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