"Rosie," said Jared after unsuccessfully trying to get his box-spring up the stairs in his new place. "Make me happy."

So I carefully marked the place in my book, set it down, and threw my arms about his neck, hugging for all I was worth.

"Thank you. That's much better."

~

Went to see The Passion of Christ today. It was pretty good. Kind of melodramatic, though. It's definately not for the weak of stomach. I wasn't awake enough to appreciate the movie in whole (and I blush and admit I dozed during the first half hour, mostly because I hadn't slept in over 24 hours).

"Rosie...pssst...Rosie. You're falling asleep again."

"Mmmm." I remember just shifting a bit and rolling my head to the side, my forehead resting against his shoulder.

He just chuckled and shifted so his shoulder was at a more comfortable level, so I could rest my head there and nap a little.

Which I did.

That part of the movie was good, too, though I have no idea what was going on on the screen.

After I started actually paying attention I cried through the whole damned movie. The part that got me the most was seeing Andrew (I think his name is), Jesus's brother, behind Mary.

Just the expression, or lack thereof, tore at something inside.

The other part that really, really got me was after Jesus had been beaten by the Roman guard, and he was dragged from the square, and the whole ground was spattered and pooling with his blood, and Mary dropped down on her knees and started wiping up the hopeless amount of blood.

That got me because of that dream I had a couple months ago.

I won't recap the dream too much, but the basic of what happened is I was beaten until I bled all over, and then the man that was beating me made me wipe up my blood before I was allowed to leave.

It was so eerily similar, not in look, but in action, that that, too, tore at something inside and I cried most at that point than at any other point in the movie.

It was just a dream, too, but I remember the emotions so vividly, and I remember looking at my hand in a pool of my own congealing blood, then turning and looking up at the man who was beating me and seeing no mercy, only hate and dispair, bared teeth and a clenched fist.

Yeah. I cried a lot during that movie. Jared looked over a couple of times. I'm sure my face shone wet.

"Are you okay, Rosie?"

"...yeah. I'm fine."

I'm surprised he didn't comment on the fact I was breathing more or less in gasps and shduders. I tried to keep it to a minimum, though. It was pretty cramped in there.

Anyway, I'm to bed. I slept from 3pm to 9:30pm today already, but I'm still exhausted.

.

Rosie.

Before&After