Double Standard

Thursday May 17: I left the house that morning with my cell phone still on the charger. I remember fishing through my purse after the Dunkin' Donuts stop, realizing that I had done it again. I went to work, did my thing, drove home. I usually call someone on my way home, and I couldn't. It was just me, my car and the radio. And I started to cry. Nothing triggered it, for no reason, I just started to cry. And I could not stop. I drove home, got in the house and kept crying. I hid in the storage room, I didn't want Adam to see. I cried talking to Jenn, I cried talking to Amy, I cried so much I didn't think I'd ever stop. Adam dragged me to dinner when I had finally stopped and then I met the girls for drinks. I drank quickly at dinner, the wine was cold and it tasted good. After two glasses at Madison's I was feeling no pain. It ended abruptly, the grief. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. All because Adam wanted to go out to dinner.

Saturday May 26: We showed Adam's Dad and his new wife all the locations for the wedding. After the day tour was over we took them to meet my Dad and one brother. We drank, ate and had a merry time. It was a wonderful visit, good for the parents all to meet. On the way home, I guess, the wine got the better of me. I cried, sobbed, really, all the way up the parkway. With my father-in-law and Pat in the backseat. I didn't care, I just let it out. They were comforting, though. Adam rubbed my back. It was good.

I've been feeling lately like I'm doing so well. I'm happy, life is great, Adam and I are having wonderful weekends together, I'm satisfied with my job situation, although I don't have one, really. But still, satisfied.

I'm shocked to see that the last time I was here was April 30th! I was reading something the other day about how to have a successful blog. That you need to post often and with much content. I can't decide what I want for this wee place of mine. I don't if I want to commit to writing here on a consistent basis or only when I have a lot to say. I feel like I'm too busy living to be sitting here typing. There is fear also, in committing to this on a more frequent basis. I'm afraid that I will grieve too much, that I will be sad all the time. That by writing here I'll be forcing myself to think and remember and dwell.

It's amazing how in one post, in one thoughtful conversation with myself, I realize how many different directions my writing can go. And how many things could benefit from explanation.

I'm proud that I was able to finally be still long enough to cry without caring. My bearevement counselor said last time we met that she picked up on that trait in me, that I'm afraid to slow down. I finally did, and it was great.

And now, my Sunday evening is starting. I must go and enjoy it.