The stress was high

August 8, 2013 0049

            We sold the Princess Puppy today.  She needed a better home.  So, we got her one.  She took to her new family very well and made no objections to going with them.

            With our money we decided to enjoy our evening with our new friends.  We paid for a second week here at Crews Lake.  We put Crystal and Dave on our site with us so they too would have a place to call home this week.  I look forward to laundry tomorrow.

            The laughter tonight was dancing through the leaves at the tops of the trees.  The Goat Man has been playing his part and getting all the laughs he can muster.  It was a very good night.  I have been laughing and watching him all night thinking how lucky I am to have him.

            He has this way of arching his back, flipping his arm forward limply and talking with a lisp through his teeth that makes everyone laugh.  “Now stop it.”  With his arched back he licks his fingers and begins running them is circles around his nipples.  It is hard to stay standing everyone laughs so hard.

            I watched him entertain tonight and I listened to his stories and I began to feel like everything was going to be okay.  I am so in love with this man.  I cannot imagine anything else before or after him.

            The doubt and stress has over taken us both today.  Like a light switch he goes from fun loving, laughing, and story telling man to someone who wants nothing to do with me.

            I leaned in and wrapped my arms around his middle and instead of a nice tight squeeze from his arm, which brings out the warm fuzzies; He pulls away from me.  I question what is wrong and he denies anything, so I try again.  I get the same result.

            I refuse to fight with him, but he won’t let it stop.

It is very dark here at the beginning of the park.  My truck sits by the gate and it is pitch black.  I will sleep here tonight.  We can worry about it in the morning. 

            I do not have any place to go.  I want to curl up next to The Goat Man, but tonight I cannot hold it together when he becomes ruthless.

            He sleeps it off in the tent.

            We met three new people today.  Cindy is a woman in her fifties that walks with a quad cane.  She was widowed three years ago.  She travels with Cory, her fifteen year old son and Brian.  It is unclear who Brian is because he stays in their Astro van most of the time and rarely speaks when he comes out.

            He is a mysterious man.  He stands tall, but is quite thin.  His hair was dark and his nose was large.  He would be cute except some indefinable trait sends his appearance toward ugly.  He had a large atom’s apple and his knee never stopped bouncing.

            They have openly admitted to begging for money, stealing food, and having arrest warrants out for Brian.  It was clear our moral fortitude was different.  I found myself concerned about the values being taught to the young fifteen-year-old boy.

August 8, 2013 0743

            I have been up a couple of hours now.  There still is no sign of The Goat Man’s existence.  I assume he is sleeping in the tent, but I have not been looking for him and I have no intentions of it.

            I started my day at the bathrooms that have flushing toilets as the sun was turning on the day lights.  The damp dew settled on everything like dishes on the towel air-drying.  The day seemed ominously alone, but the noises were everywhere.

            I remembered laying in our bed, back when we had a home, and listening to the birds.  They came at 0530 every morning.  With my head on The Goat Man’s chest and his arm wrapped around my body and his hand firmly grasping my butt cheek, he would grumble awake when I spoke to him.

            It takes The Goat Man awhile to wake up.  He walks around groggy for what seems like forever before his words develop out of grunts.  I am the early bird up with the sun.  I am awake, clear, and full of energy immediately after I open my eyes.  I now grow tired and wish that I could curl up next to him and go back to sleep. 

            Anyway, back to the bathroom this morning.  So many sounds echo around the bathroom as I sit in the stall.  My nerves are on edge because the stalls are still darker than I like, but I did not bring my flashlight. 

            My eyes continually darting around in the poorly lit stall looking for bugs, snakes, or worse.  My ears, trying to place every sound with a reason, were on high alert.  That is when I heard the noise.  A high-pitched clicking. “click, click…click. Click, click…click.”

            The Goat Man has been telling me since we arrived that is the sound of baby alligators.  Now I sit in the stall with a heart rate of OMG!  I am afraid to leave the bathroom I thought to be so safe, but I cannot stay in here all morning.  I didn’t know if I was scared or excited.  Where is The Goat Man?

            The alligator in the doorway of the bathroom was about the size of a large mans shoe.  In a panic I leaped like jack be nimble over the gator and dashed out to the truck.  As I sat in the truck exhilarated I had only one thought.  What if momma gator had been around?  I don’t think the baby even noticed my stealthy retreat.

            I drove back to the campsite and waited for The Goat Man to wake up.  I was really starting to miss him.  I was not completely sure why he was mad at me, but never was I mad at him.  I just didn’t want to fight.

            The Goat Man is more concerned that all of you know that I started the fight.  I don’t know what I did to start a fight I never took part of, but I don’t care if he covers the Internet with that statement.  The Goat Man says I make our fight sound like I was a “perfect angel” and he is all-bad.  The truth of the matter is that the stress is making both of us grumpy and we had a fight.  Like all fights old stuff comes up and feelings get hurt.  But we are just surviving and today I still know The Goat Man is my dream come true and he is not at all bad.  All I care about at this moment…is what comes next?

            I watched him gather all of his things and then walk down the trail.  The Goat Man left me.  I tried all morning to make up with him, but he found his way out and he wasn’t going to let go of it no matter what.

            I drove down here to pavilion 4 where we had all the laughs last night and I sit here writing.  I don’t have a plan.  I don’t know where I am going or what I am doing.  I think I might wash up in the bathroom.  Things can always get worse.

            The Princess Puppy is gone.  The Goat Man told me once that she was all he had left.  I thought he just forgot to mention that he still had me, but I guess he did not forget.  I am the one he leaves behind.