The load out

I'm so tired but I doubt I'll be able to sleep tonight. I added fish on here, because the idea of nature, even fake nature is really exciting to me right now. I never knew it was possible to move so much and not see anything.

The husband should be getting off of work soon. I'm already on the bus. I try really hard to be invisible. I know I'm not wanted here, but for some reason he got his way. My husband is the only married member of the band. I know my husband would defend me thought anything, but I spend most of my time being quite and out of the way. I actually try to make myself as small as possible. I know you might be asking how, but It's totally a mental thing.  I share a bunk with my husband. Neither of us are large people, but it's still sorta inhumane. We pretty much live in each other's pockets. Which is good and bad of course. There really isn't anywhere for me to go to or really anything for me to do.

I had a job when I met him. I gave it up for love. I know an absurd amount of music trivia and I own a digital reading device.  I take up random hobbies, but don't really stay with them. I guess when you're part of something this big it's hard for you find something that is meaningful in comparison.

Some days I don't even get dressed up. I sit on the counter of the dressing room, no make up and my hair in a rats nest and watch my husband become a persona I know you might be thinking this isn't how you keep your man, and maybe one day he'll kick me out. He might leave me at a travel center or a venue. accedently pack a groupie and leave the old lady behind. I don't really believe that. When you're famous it's very hard to believe anyone likes you for you. I know he knows I love him. I love him when he's all made up in stage makeup and expensive ratty clothes. I love him when he's snoring in my ear.  He is a good performer, but in real life he's a totally a different person than you'd expect. I love to read fan pages about him. I love to see what it is they think they know. Sometimes they get a snippet right, or a half truth they read in an interview, but those are all part of the act for the most part.

After rereading this I realize I need to come up with a code word for my husband. I can't keep typing My Husband... He is known by his stage name.... but his real name is also widely known.... hmmmm. I might have to think about this.

We all want to be big stars, but we all have diffrent reasons for that. - Mr Jones, Counting Crows

I really don't know how to start this. I've been so secretive lately that even this anonymous blog seems too much for me.  I feel like I've joined the CIA, but really all I did was get married. I can equate this life to many things, such as joining a cult or faking one's own death. I'm making things seem really horrible, and maybe they aren't. Now I feel spoiled as well as jaded. I swear I'm my own worst enemy.

Growing up I always thought I wanted this life. I guess I over estimated myself at the time. I love my husband. He's a good man, and he really wants to be married, which I think is rare.  His father is a musician, and I think he has a very unique perspective as to what is happening to us.

I started this because I'm ungodly bored and a little lost to say the least.
I thought Rock n Roll was suppose to save?