We got a total of four hours of sleep last night, which made for a rough morning.
I’m damn proud of him for doing this trip. Yes, I will miss the fuck out of him, but he needs this. I told him today that he’s less scared than when I met him. He’s taking back his life, though he may not see that for himself.
Now, to get my nap on. Hardcore.
This is the first of three essays I have tasked myself with while Ray is in Europe. Comments and responses are welcome.
I went to his house last night, head hung low for the ways I had melted down on him yesterday. I was expecting a deserved admonishment.
Instead, I was given a massive hug, along with this:
"I knew you’d freak out this weekend. It’s ok, as long as you’re ok."
He knows how ashamed I am about my never-ending anxiety. He combats it with patience and support and affection, which, in the end, is all I need. I’m going to feel all of my feelings, which do run a wide spectrum, and he gets that. He understands.
He provides me with the safe space I need to be as human as possible, and I love him for that.
When you act like a jerk, you call and leave voicemails that end with:
"Your boyfriend is not an asshole. I just play one on TV. I’m sorry."
That moment when your anxiety about a few different things comes to a head and suddenly you look like a needy asshole to your boyfriend because he’s already got enough on his plate for one day and you needed that little slap across the face to get a grip.
I cannot control all of the variables in my life.
Why do I struggle to remember this?
Sipping yesterday’s $7 wine from Trader Joe’s and getting into the deep bits of this damn essay feels pretty good. I had such a sloth of a day today, but managed to peel myself up off the couch and go see a mutual friend of ours read a few pieces of his poetry in a bookshop in St. John’s. It felt good to get off the couch, and now I’m pretty revved up to do some readings of my own. I think I might drop an email to the bookstore I was at tonight and see if I can find a schedule of their open-mic nights. I’ve got nothing to lose, really.