Well, most of it had to do with the fact that my family made a cross-country move back to the east coast for my partner's job. Now we live by the ocean.
But during that entire period of craziness, M and I kept talking every week, sometimes twice. One of the most important things we talked about was...visiting. In the Spring.
Well, it's Spring. And she's coming.
She's coming to visit me the first weekend in April.
This post is not very...eloquent. A bit over-composed. But that's me to a T. I stay calm until the moment before something huge is about to happen, then I start thinking about all that stuff in the back of my mind that I'm really feeling. Too late. Well, it's certainly helped me keep it together through some chaotic times. Of course, that's why I do it.
But this is different. I don't want to keep it together anymore. I'll admit I've been avoiding thinking about it. I let myself get worried about what she usually eats for breakfast. No joke. "M, is there anything you usually eat for breakfast?" I actually asked her that. Meanwhile, she's having a royal cow on the other end of the phone every time we talk about the visit because, well, she's a bit more emotionally honest that way.
You see, my job's always been to calm everyone else down. Classic Em: It'll be alright! We'll be fine! You're gonna be fiiiiine.
Go ahead, you can say it. Pathetic, I know.
So after realizing I was doing this (obsessing over what food to buy her, where to take her, if she likes bar or liquid soap) I was driving one day and let myself admit that yes, I was completely freaked out to meet her. For the first time in my life, I absolutely cannot be the one to be expected to hold it together for everyone. Besides my son and my soulmate, this is by far the absolute most sacred thing in my life. And the most personal. I shattered a long time ago over it and came back together again. Now I'm falling to pieces again, but for a different reason. This time, we're letting the pieces fall where they may. This time, we decide where they go together. This time, we're putting each other back together again.
So I stopped worrying about it. I'm particularly talking about picking her up at the airport. All those people around. Getting embarrassed. I don't care anymore. If I sob into her frizzy, smoky brown hair for 15 minutes straight and she does the same to me, I don't care. I don't fucking care.