Personal Piece: A Love Note To My Georgia Girl
Note: This is a personal piece, you are welcome to enjoy it but I'm not posting it for the intent of public consumption—It is strictly a little note to my Georgia Girl.
I tend to compartmentalize, I work, I stress, I decompress. My wife experiences, cares and shares. Understandably, she gets frustrated because she feels like I shut her out, not that she's missing anything just that I am not sharing my experience. More often than not it is a protection mechanism; for her, for me, for both, maybe nobody—who knows?
On top of that, at times I can be obsessive. I'm a work-a-holic, CFB only occupies four divisions of the calendar—yet I follow all 12. I eat from my purple and gold dishes year round and when summer starts turning to fall my dear wife proclaims herself a football widow, though she too is a fan. (Dawgs, wouldn't you know)
To add to her plight, about six months ago I found this thing called Bleacher Report—an outlet for 20 plus years of pent up creative musing—I started a new business venture in the midst of an economic collapse inspiring echoes of depression-light perhaps great and I accepted a time consuming personal responsibility that often makes her pray.
So twice in the last few days my wife has asked me if I need her anymore. Not knowing how to properly respond I probably engaged the aforementioned mechanism but I have really been trying to come up with the right response.
So here goes
Dear Georgia Girl,
When my truck wouldn’t start I realized I need you more than that truck needs a battery —I certainly need you more than my old sales boss needed flattery.
When I look into an aquarium I see that I need you like fish need water, I’m sure that I need you more than clay needs the potter.
I know I need you like banks need their money, in fact I’m sure that I need you more than bees need honey.
Turn on your TV and I think you will see—I need you like a starlet needs her fame, I really believe I need you more than a forest needs rain.
You know that I love you, you KNOW that I want you and after all that you have read—I think you will see, I need you just as much as I need my breath.
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