Excessive Worrying: Evan's a Killing Machine!

This summer hasn't been so bad. It is going by both quickly and incredibly slowly. I would say that the days are long, but the weeks are short (is that a song lyric?). I usually get one or two letters from Evan a week. He has only been able to call me twice in... five weeks? Or is it four?

He called me today. When I picked up the phone, I expected a, "Hello, is Yo-say Haynes available?" or, "Is Lily Haynes there?" I expected to snap, "No, and it's Josie/Lyle HAN-NES." I pick up every strange number that calls my house now, in hopes of getting Evan, and they're usually telemarketers. But this time, an uncertain, familiar voice asked for Dani, and my heart skipped a beat! Evaaan!

It was hard to talk to him, since we kept accidentally interrupting each other and I kept stumbling over my words. The phone he was using wasn't very good, either, so I had trouble hearing him. But it was him, and that was enough to get my eyes a-waterin' (the sniffling didn't help to make our conversation any easier). In response to a letter I sent him, he assured me that I can still wear the pants in our relationship when he comes home, and that I can still take care of him. It still seems strange to me, though. He knows how to shoot guns. He's a killing machine now! Won't it be weird to hold the head of a killing machine on my lap? I can't imagine running my fingers through the hair of a man that has thrown grenades. Do I want to make dinner for a man that could easily blow my brains all over the kitchen walls?

Evan has assured me, over and over again, that he will still be my nerdy Evan when he comes back. He still likes Totoro, even if he is a fluffy bunny thing. To motivate himself to run during PT, he thinks a remixed version of the Lucky Star theme. He hasn't changed yet, but what if he does? He's going to be all muscled and sexy and confident when he comes home. What if he gets an ego? What if he dumps me because I've got a double chin? Oh, god!

I just need to stay confident. Show him who's boss, Dani! Send him letters exclaiming that I can beat him at Thumb War (I can't) and that I will always win during bouts of impromptu wrestling (I've never). I bet most people would like my mac and cheese more than they like his mac and cheese soup. He's a wimp when it comes to getting wet, whereas I'm willing to jump into a pool while still fully-clothed.

It just occurred to me: will he get freckles from running around in the sun so much? He was starting to get them around his eyes before he left... Mmmf, Evan with freckles. I'll melt all over. And those big, dorky glasses he has to wear? I have a nerd fetish. Oh, man. I wish I could see him now. I would gobble him right up.

This brings me to another worry of mine: will I forget how to interact with him? Will I forget how to kiss, how to snuggle, etc.? Will we fall back into our old habit of never meeting eye contact, awkwardly looking away from each other all the time? Will holding hands become a terrifying experience? What were these last sixteen months for if we're just going to act like a new couple all over again?

What if our reunion is awful? We've both been dreamin' up different scenarios where we meet each other and the most romantic scene ensues. I walk into my house, only to find him standing in my family room. The sun is somehow glistening off our hair, even though we're inside. I gasp and run toward him in slow-mo, tears streaming from my face, and we exchange the sweetest, gentlest of kisses.

What will probably happen: I see his car in my driveway while on my way back from work. He has been there for too long, not knowing where I was or if I would return home before marching band. I park my car, and sit in it for several minutes of unadulterated panic before finally crawling out to greet him. He's standing awkwardly by his car. This is where I either stand several feet away from him, not sure what he wants, or I rush toward him and end up smacking my forehead into his, knocking him unconscious. Or I try to kiss him and end up biting his lip something awful, like I did when I was first learning how to kiss. Or maybe he'll have the saddest look on his face and say, "Dani, I should have done this earlier, but... I think we should see other people." I will drop to the ground and sob while he casually drives away.

What I'm trying to say is: I love that bitch. Whore better stay how he is, and stay with me for a little while longer.