In my freshman year of college I had my heart broken. It was devastating and I thought there was no recovery in sight. I was sure I would never move on and so I decided to plan out my life alone. I still wanted kids so I assumed I would just use a sperm bank or something. I was tough. I could handle the logistics of child rearing and love the crap out of that kid.
Since Josh has moved I have been able to get a taste of this and you know what? I can do it. The logistics are the easy part. 95% of the time the girls get everywhere they need to go with a parent there if need be. And yes, I love the crap out of them. I thought this was all I would need. I didn't see the most difficult part.
The hard part is the vacancy. The absence of a partner. Not in dealing with the kids (although that can be tough), but in dealing with myself. The emptiness.
I don't rush over to the couch to get the good seat, there isn't anyone else to get it.
When I turn to make an inappropriate joke, there isn't anyone to hear it.
There isn't anyone for me to slide my cold feet under to warm them up.
I don't put perfume on before bed, there isn't anyone to smell me.
When I feel exceptionally cute and realize there isn't anyone there to see.
The nights are the worst. I wake up, multiple times a night, reaching out to lay my hand on the chest that isn't there.
Maybe if I'd never had it I wouldn't miss it. But I did, and I do...
2015/09/24
2015/09/08
The Perfect Space
Those that know me well know that I frequently say the phrase "I hate the way emotions make me feel". This is mostly due to the fact that when I feel an emotion I FEEL that emotion. It is very very intense and I have trouble processing it. In some cases like sadness, anxiety or fear it will cause physical pain that can overstimulate me to the point of a freak out/shutdown. I even feel emotions I think other people should feel. I over relate. To most, this isn't news. They have seen this happen countless times.
This reaction means that I usually try to avoid intense emotions all together and surprise, surprise, I'm a bit of a control freak.
Obviously I can't hold all the negative emotions at bay so sometimes, some leak out. It isn't usually pretty.
So, I came up with a way to let a little bit of emotion out in a "controlled" setting. Music. I can listen and feel whatever the singer is sharing for 3-5 minutes and then it ends. Well, usually. At my most self aware, I will use music to help make myself feel the emotion I know I'm holding back. So that I can feel it constructively and have a starting and stopping point. The songs I use for this must be carefully chosen. Whatever I choose will be forever tainted with sadness. Whenever I listen to it, tomorrow or years from now, I will feel the weight of that time. The full emotion of whatever I let out during the song. It will be associated with a specific memory and pain.
When I'm not so self aware I pick some cheesy upbeat music in hopes that I can make myself feel THAT way. It works, for 3-5 minutes. When the song ends so does the illusion of happy. Or sometimes I just listen to the sappy stuff so that music I love wont become tainted. I can't hold the emotions back and I'm just out there, feeling it and and making correlations willy nilly. You have to be careful with that stuff ;) Josh hates my music now days. He cringes when I turn it on. Knowing it will be something cheesy, with no depth, poorly written and poorly performed. It makes it fairly miserable for us to ride in a car together. I don't want something good and he doesn't want something that makes him want to pull his ears off. He's so picky.
But, I'm trying to be more of a grown up lately. Trying to teach your kid how to be more grown up will really help you see all the areas where you behave like a big baby. So today, I did it. I turned on the Avett Brothers. It's been 7 months. Here's to hoping this doesn't kill them.
2015/09/02
The Sweet Doctor
Shortly after the closure announcement a dear friend posted the last few seconds of 10's life. The iconic phrase of " I don't want to go" was uttered and our hearts all broke. In that instant you know the emotional loss regeneration takes. I used this line as a way of simply expressing my feelings about this place. It ended up that I didn't have to go in the end, but Sweet Briar did. Sweet Briar died. As much as we want to say it didn't, it did. It brought that scene full circle for me. Sweet Briar died but it didn't stay dead. It regenerated. But, as any Doctor Who fan worth their salt knows, the new Doctor is different. As is Sweet Briar. It continues but isn't the same. It has all the same memories, knows all the same people, has all the same places, but it has become something new. No matter how hard it tries, the losses are still there.
Even though some students came back and some faculty and staff stayed, we are forever different. It's still here but we feel the loss. Some lost students or friends. Some are separated from their families. The whole place is filled with ghosts. Everywhere I look I see an empty space. Where someone I know should be, but isn't.
I thought the hard part would be leaving. Driving out of the gates knowing I wouldn't be back. I was wrong. The hard part was staying. Staying and watching the others go. Feeling the emptiness. Watching others try and fill their place. It feels like people are pretending they were never here at all. It's lonely.
Even though some students came back and some faculty and staff stayed, we are forever different. It's still here but we feel the loss. Some lost students or friends. Some are separated from their families. The whole place is filled with ghosts. Everywhere I look I see an empty space. Where someone I know should be, but isn't.
I thought the hard part would be leaving. Driving out of the gates knowing I wouldn't be back. I was wrong. The hard part was staying. Staying and watching the others go. Feeling the emptiness. Watching others try and fill their place. It feels like people are pretending they were never here at all. It's lonely.
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