Saturday was a bad day for me.
Things are still going strong with Mr. J2.
But Saturday was rough.
At the time I wasn’t sure why; we had just spent a wonderful week together doing all our favourite things – eating, cooking, talking and being together.
Oh, and let’s not forget the amazing sex.
But Saturday morning, as soon as I walked into my condo, I could feel it.
The darkness descended.
I looked around and saw the tea stains on the kitchen floor that hadn’t been cleaned up by The Roommate; I saw the crumbs all over the counter that hadn’t been wiped; I saw the dribble of who-knows-what down along the side of the fridge.
That’s where it began.
To go from such a wonderful happy place to my reality was too much for me to handle that morning.
Not that I am complaining.
I am merely trying to figure out how and why I went from such a happy high to a deep low.
I did my laundry. I cleaned my room. I took out my garbage.
And still the darkness descended.
Talking to Mr. J2 by text didn’t help.
Neither did reading old emails from my father – who passed away in 2009.
Mr. J2 invited me over for dinner and to watch The Boy play hockey since The Ex wouldn’t be at the game. He missed me and I really missed him too, but I declined because I really wasn’t in the right mindset.
I also thought he needed to spend some time with his kids by himself. He misses them so much.
I took a nap in the afternoon and by the evening I had figured out when my brain took that left turn in Albuquerque.
You see… I got ahead of myself.
The Daughter had a band competition that morning. Mr. J2 rushed to get himself ready and pick up The Boy to make it there on time.
We left the house at the same time – me going home and him going to get The Boy.
And I realized… that’s what started it.
I couldn’t go to the concert.
But I wanted to.
Did I know I wanted to? Nope.
Did I ask if I could go? Nope.
Did we talk at all about my going? Nope.
But in my head, I got ahead of the situation. Spending the week with Mr. J2 was too good. Just like a fantasy, and so when we got back to reality – The Ex not having met me and, let’s be honest, I’m really not part of the family – it just hit me suddenly.
And wham. Down came the boom.
What makes me angry and frustrated is that NO ONE did this to me. No one made me feel bad; no one said anything to me to make me feel anything, and no one actually said that I couldn’t go.
I did this to myself.
Well… that and PMS. I am totally going to give PMS partial credit for this one. (I’m just glad I get sad and I don’t turn into the bitch from hell)
But it was all in my head. I wanted to be there. I wanted to be in the crowd watching The Daughter play.
But we aren’t there yet. I know that.
Well, my head knows that. My heart, it seems, didn’t get the message.
I’m better now, though. Some sleep, some junk food, and some time helped me see that I was making things worse than they were. I’m jumping ahead to step 8 when in reality we are only on step 3.
And so we still have a few more steps to go.
Patience has NEVER been my virtue. But in this case, I just have to let it go.
It will happen. I know it will. But not on my schedule. Not on anyone’s schedule.
When the time is right, I will be there, along with the rest of her family, cheering her on.