In which we have visitors

Two of Josiah's fellow combiners/truck drivers from this past summer came to visit us for a few days last week. I enjoyed every moment of their visit, except for the farewells. Their names were Blake and Chris and they hailed from New Zealand.

I miss them more than I probably should, given the fact that they were only here for three days and I only saw them in the evenings with the exception of the afternoon spent with them when I picked them up in Niagara Falls.

But they saw me. Not just as a physical presence, but me - a person with feelings and likes and dislikes and a name that no one can spell, but is nonetheless spell-able if people would just put in the effort to spell it right.

On Monday they got back from hunting around the same time as I got home from work, and Blake asked me how my day was. I'm sure he was just being polite, but I honestly can't remember the last time someone asked how my day was, and actually turned and looked at me with a look that told me that they actually expected an answer.

And they spell my name right. As much as I say that people spelling my name wrong doesn't bother me, it does at times. If you care about me at all, you should take the time to spell my name right.

It was entirely pleasant having them here. I enjoyed every minute of being a "somebody" as opposed to a "nobody". But now I'm experiencing a bit of a let down. I got a glimpse of what it's like to be cared about, and it's hard going back to no one really caring what I do or where I go.

The loneliness is crushing at times.