Our Story, chapter 16
February 14, 2006
This was my third Valentines Day in a row that I spent home alone with the kids. Billie was in New York for some interview with Spin Magazine. Last year, and the year before that, he was on tour. I'd gotten used to being alone a lot, in recent years. Ever since American Idiot was released, Billie hadn't seen much of me, or the boys. I always told them that "Daddy has other responsibilities to his fans and to the band." I knew every time I said it that it was more for my own reassurance than theirs.
I walked up the stairs, picking up toy trucks and G.I Joes along the way. I put the toys away in the play room and made my way into our bedroom. Letting out a long sigh, I sat down on the floor next to the bed. I reached under the bed and slid out a large pink hat box. Blowing the dust off of the lid, I opened it and was instantly flooded with a million memories. I sorted through all the little keepsakes I had been saving since Billie and I started dating when I was in college. The ticket stub and wrist band from their concert in Amherst, the picture of Billie and his father, old letters and notes he had sent me, a Polaroid picture of us on their tour bus, and of course; the CD he had made me. I felt my eyes start to water as I picked the CD up out of the box and turned the case over. The writing on the cover had worn off, so instead of "Songs I Wrote Because I Love You" it said "Songs ... ... . I Love Yo". I don't know why, but just seeing that made me start crying. I sat there, leaning against my bed crying for an hour. I was crying out of frustration more than anything else. I missed Billie; I hated being away from him so much. As much as I tried to tell myself that it didn't bother me, it really did.
Eventually, I picked myself up off the floor, wiped my eyes, and headed for the bathroom. I put the CD into the CD player in the bathroom and turned on the shower. The bathroom instantly filled with the sound of my husband's voice and steam. I undressed slowly, throwing my clothes across the bathroom floor. My shirt happened to knock over the small waste basket under the sink, causing the E.P.T test I had taken that morning to fall out onto the floor. It was positive; I was planning on telling Billie when he came home the next day. I stepped into the shower and let the hot water hit me in the face. I stood there for a few minutes; letting the heat melt away my frustrations and anything else that was on my mind. I turned around and let the hot water run through my hair, but was suddenly startled by the sound of the bathroom door opening.
"Dewie? Do you need something honey?" I asked, assuming it was our son. "Is something wrong?"
There was no answer.
'It probably just blew open.' I thought to myself.
I grabbed the shampoo bottle and started to wash my hair. I rinsed the lather out and reached for the bottle of conditioner when the shower door flew open. I screamed. It was Billie Joe.
"Oh, my God, you scared the shit out of me!" I said out of breath.
"Well, hello to you, too." He replied with a smirk on his face. "Why are you listening to this CD?" He asked as he stepped into the shower and closed the door behind him.
"Because, I missed you, I guess." I answered, wrapping my arms around his neck.
"Oh, you did, did you?" He asked smugly as he pressed his body against mine and backed me up against the shower glass.
"Mmhmm" I mumbled as his tongue entered my mouth. I ran my hands through his hair as he begun to unbutton his shirt. He pealed his shirt off and threw it across the shower as I began to frantically undo his belt, followed by his pants. After he was undressed he pressed himself up against me hard and pulled me closer to him. He ran his hands up and down my back and through my wet hair. He lifted me up and pressed me up against the steamy glass. I moaned loudly as he pushed himself up against me, hard. I threw my head back and grabbed the shower head for more support as I let out another loud moan. It was great to have Billie back.
I woke up the next morning with the sunlight shining on my face. I was wrapped up in a mountain of white sheets and Billie's arms. I rolled over and faced his sleeping body. I ran my hand through his hair and softly kissed him on the lips. I moved closer to him and put his arm back around by body. I laid there for a while listening to his breathing. It was funny how Billie always had a way of making everything better. I always felt safe when I was with him, I always felt loved. We'd come a long way since we met in 1995. We'd gone through a lot together, which ultimately, brought us closer. I looked over at the clock on our nightstand. It said 8:13. I knew we only had a few minutes before the kids got up, so I just laid there in Billie Joe's arms, listening to his breathing, feeling loved, and knowing that there would be many more mornings like this to come.
This was my third Valentines Day in a row that I spent home alone with the kids. Billie was in New York for some interview with Spin Magazine. Last year, and the year before that, he was on tour. I'd gotten used to being alone a lot, in recent years. Ever since American Idiot was released, Billie hadn't seen much of me, or the boys. I always told them that "Daddy has other responsibilities to his fans and to the band." I knew every time I said it that it was more for my own reassurance than theirs.
I walked up the stairs, picking up toy trucks and G.I Joes along the way. I put the toys away in the play room and made my way into our bedroom. Letting out a long sigh, I sat down on the floor next to the bed. I reached under the bed and slid out a large pink hat box. Blowing the dust off of the lid, I opened it and was instantly flooded with a million memories. I sorted through all the little keepsakes I had been saving since Billie and I started dating when I was in college. The ticket stub and wrist band from their concert in Amherst, the picture of Billie and his father, old letters and notes he had sent me, a Polaroid picture of us on their tour bus, and of course; the CD he had made me. I felt my eyes start to water as I picked the CD up out of the box and turned the case over. The writing on the cover had worn off, so instead of "Songs I Wrote Because I Love You" it said "Songs ... ... . I Love Yo". I don't know why, but just seeing that made me start crying. I sat there, leaning against my bed crying for an hour. I was crying out of frustration more than anything else. I missed Billie; I hated being away from him so much. As much as I tried to tell myself that it didn't bother me, it really did.
Eventually, I picked myself up off the floor, wiped my eyes, and headed for the bathroom. I put the CD into the CD player in the bathroom and turned on the shower. The bathroom instantly filled with the sound of my husband's voice and steam. I undressed slowly, throwing my clothes across the bathroom floor. My shirt happened to knock over the small waste basket under the sink, causing the E.P.T test I had taken that morning to fall out onto the floor. It was positive; I was planning on telling Billie when he came home the next day. I stepped into the shower and let the hot water hit me in the face. I stood there for a few minutes; letting the heat melt away my frustrations and anything else that was on my mind. I turned around and let the hot water run through my hair, but was suddenly startled by the sound of the bathroom door opening.
"Dewie? Do you need something honey?" I asked, assuming it was our son. "Is something wrong?"
There was no answer.
'It probably just blew open.' I thought to myself.
I grabbed the shampoo bottle and started to wash my hair. I rinsed the lather out and reached for the bottle of conditioner when the shower door flew open. I screamed. It was Billie Joe.
"Oh, my God, you scared the shit out of me!" I said out of breath.
"Well, hello to you, too." He replied with a smirk on his face. "Why are you listening to this CD?" He asked as he stepped into the shower and closed the door behind him.
"Because, I missed you, I guess." I answered, wrapping my arms around his neck.
"Oh, you did, did you?" He asked smugly as he pressed his body against mine and backed me up against the shower glass.
"Mmhmm" I mumbled as his tongue entered my mouth. I ran my hands through his hair as he begun to unbutton his shirt. He pealed his shirt off and threw it across the shower as I began to frantically undo his belt, followed by his pants. After he was undressed he pressed himself up against me hard and pulled me closer to him. He ran his hands up and down my back and through my wet hair. He lifted me up and pressed me up against the steamy glass. I moaned loudly as he pushed himself up against me, hard. I threw my head back and grabbed the shower head for more support as I let out another loud moan. It was great to have Billie back.
I woke up the next morning with the sunlight shining on my face. I was wrapped up in a mountain of white sheets and Billie's arms. I rolled over and faced his sleeping body. I ran my hand through his hair and softly kissed him on the lips. I moved closer to him and put his arm back around by body. I laid there for a while listening to his breathing. It was funny how Billie always had a way of making everything better. I always felt safe when I was with him, I always felt loved. We'd come a long way since we met in 1995. We'd gone through a lot together, which ultimately, brought us closer. I looked over at the clock on our nightstand. It said 8:13. I knew we only had a few minutes before the kids got up, so I just laid there in Billie Joe's arms, listening to his breathing, feeling loved, and knowing that there would be many more mornings like this to come.
Previous | Page 16/16
