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Personal Piece: A Love Note To My Georgia Girl

MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA - OCTOBER 11:  Fashion ambassador Clover Lee-Steere showcases a hat design during the Chadstone Fashion Stakes Heats at The Age Caulfield Guineas Day, the first day of the Caulfield Spring Racing Carnival at Caulfield Racecourse on October 11, 2008 in Melbourne, Australia.  (Photo by Sergio Dionisio/Getty Images)
Henry BallSenior Analyst ISeptember 3, 2009

Note: This is a personal piece, you are welcome to enjoy it but I'm not posting it for the intent of public consumptionIt 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.

Love—Me

 

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