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Post: Welcome

What We Mean

Compartmentalize.

Observe.

Add context.


I have amazing friends and family, let's focus on that.

I feel like an idiot, my inner voice is being super critical right now.

I've been through much worse, I can get through this.


I repeat the process that supposedly helps one deal with difficult emotions. It does help, but also, could they just not be such dicks? I admit I am managing my emotions well. Yet, the underlying feeling persists. As though every morning I wake up and put on clothes made out of sandpaper rubbing my skin raw anew every day. No nightly balm and soft pajamas provide a cure, just momentary relief.


Today, my balm of choice is a drive to the city. An unusually warm and sunny spring day allows me to have windows cracked. I listen to my latest playlist without really listening. 30 minutes later I'm in city traffic and turn the wrong way on a one-way. This mistake is not helping my inner critic. I turn myself around and find a place to park. And cry.


Compartmentalize.

Observe.

Add context.


It is absolutely stunning outside.

My breathing is shallow and fast.

I lost both my adoptive parents and lots of beautiful things happened after those losses. I can surely deal with this. There are so many wonderful things in my life.


I take a few deep breaths and drive back home.


As I pass through the crosstown, a descending airplane eclipses my small sedan, and then you are there. As tangible as if you were sitting in my passenger seat, I hear your deep, calming voice. The voice that would straighten me when I felt like a lost kite in a windstorm. The voice that would grab my strings and settle me into the windstream with ease. You spoke the same words you did so many times before.

When we packaged up your bar-b-que to sell.

When you were teaching me to drive.

When I was walking down the aisle.


"Slow down."


"I still miss you" I say out loud as I reduce the pressure on the gas pedal, for once listening to not just what was said but what was meant.


"Slow down, I'm here and I got you."


The irony of not understanding until you left this earthly plane, sits with me. When you were here I would reply with an eye-roll, a sigh, or a laugh and the same 3 words.


"I know, Dad".


I hope you understood not just what I said but what I meant.


"I know you're right. Thank you and I love you."


I return home and find my grey-haired, green-eyed cat waiting at the top of the stairs. The cat I inherited from a friend who passed unexpectedly, and too young. The cat that was just diagnosed with cancer. And I sit on the stairs petting him and crying.


"Well, Zeus, the good news is I don't give a shit about the dickheads at work right now. The bad news? I'm still really sad."


Compartmentalize.

Observe.

Add context.


My jacket smells like the wind, it's comforting.

It's okay that I feel sad.

When you leave me, you'll be reunited with Starla.


Eventually, I slide into bed next to Dylan. Even though he is half asleep, he reaches out and drapes his arm around my waist. He pulls me closer in silence and I fall asleep embraced.

I know what he means.










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