The Green-Eyed Boy gave an awesome lead last night that stirred up a lot of stuff I haven’t thought about in a while, which set me into a contemplative mood. He said, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” and I did know — and do know — but I don’t want to tell him anything. I don’t want to continue to be that person with all the sad stories of people who have disappointed me. I want to be the girl who skips down the sidewalk and glows when she walks into the room because all of her sins have been absolved and all her darkness has become light. Maybe it’s enough for now that I can be that person 78% of the time, and the rest is growing pains. Maybe.
Exploring some of the lingering pain over the pregnancy from last summer, my therapist says, “You can ask for an apology. You can say what you need. Just don’t expect to get what you’re looking for.” And I don’t, which is why I don’t ask, and also why I won’t. The dark cloud appears at unexpected times, though — last night, when I was passing a package of saltine crackers along to a tiny little girl and her hands were just so small, soft pretty petals on a flower I’ll never find again.
I spent the better part of two hours last night reading dating websites, trying to figure out if a boy “likes me likes me” or just “likes me” — and I’m guessing he went home, texted me goodnight, then went to sleep and didn’t give it a second thought. This is further evidence that guys have it a lot easier. Or at least they can sleep on uncertainty, doubt, and not knowing whether spending 6-10 hours a day together every day for a week means you’re dating someone or are just really good friends with a lot of time on their hands.
Texas is looming. I’m talking a lot about it, but I don’t know how I feel.
I skipped my last day of graduate school because I felt squirrelly — three meetings yesterday — and ended up at the Cubs game. It was colder than I would have preferred, but we had fairly good seats (I think? what do I know? it was my first time there!), and more than anything it was pretty darn spectacular to be in an unfamiliar place in a familiar city. “I have spent too much time in Chicago without doing Chicago things,” I told The Green-Eyed Boy. “Stick with me, kid,” he said. “You’re going to have the summer of your life.” [See above.]
I’ve been reading this book about Zen that The Philosopher loaned me when I asked, “What can I read that’s spiritual but nontheistic?” It talks about simple things: eating, sleeping, breathing. It occurs to me that no one has ever taught me how to be a human being participating in the world at large. My favorite lesson, so far: “if you are hungry, eat; if you are tired, sleep; if you are awakey, be awake.” It’s the sort of book I’ll have to read a hundred times to internalize, and even then there will always be more. Sort of like life.
Moving begins today, and I am not sad but I’m not entirely happy. I don’t much like change. I’m second-guessing myself. I’m worried about how it will all get done. I fret that I don’t have enough stuff to fill up the new place. I’m concerned about my feet and whether they’ll hold up. I don’t like asking for help, and so even though there is plenty of help forthcoming, it feels as though I’m forcing myself into a pair of ill-fitting shoes. The Cute Carpenter is coming over to measure for bookcases he is building me as a housewarming present, and my gratitude mixes with uncertainty and all I can do is say “Thank you,” which I suppose is what normal people do everywhere around the world when someone is kind.
It’s the last day of class, and a student brought donuts, and when he walked in — five minutes late, with the box and a cup of coffee — I remembered (too late) that I said I would do the same. I’m so tired of teaching. I don’t think I can do this past the summer class, and if I didn’t need the money, I’d quit that, too.
Despite the dour mood, I am okay. I just feel very much in limbo, in a no-man’s land, in a space where nothing is certain and anything can happen. I crave predictability, and the fact that I do so is a sign that everything has changed. When I get to the other side, I will be safe again. For now it’s enough to know that the other side exists.