This blog is a collection of a young woman's random thoughts, many tangents, and occasional
short stories and novel excerpts. Stay tuned for plenty of bull and brief moments of brilliance.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

It's Only A Couple Days...It's Only A Couple Days...

I don't do well with disappointment, like ever. Who does though honestly? When I was little and kids would get sick and have to cancel a play-date, my mom said I would cry and sulk for hours. Over a play-date. It was serious business.

So I didn't exactly take the news well that my boyfriend wouldn't be able to visit after all. With the snow storm headed this way tomorrow, it wasn't a good idea for him to drive up. Yes, it sucks, but my reaction was to cry and cry I did.

That was ten hours ago and I only stopped crying recently.

I don't know what about it shook me so much, but it attacked my senses like nothing else. The stress of being home has been waring on me. I've kept my cool and worn a happy face. Tiny things throughout break have stung harder than they should because of my heightened sensitivity. This was my tipping point and it all came out.

Everything was fine though; I changed my schedule and am leaving now Friday morning and will get into Iowa City late afternoon. I'll see him Sunday night, no big deal. And yet the logic and rationality of it all only pissed me off more. Yes, I was being ridiculous. No, I did not care. So I cried, hugged my teddy bear, cried some more, screamed, then sniffled a bit.

Eventually I felt rather silly. Why was I crying this much over not seeing him for another four and a half days? I'd already gone almost thirty. So what was the issue? I'm not sure; I think it's simply the disappointment of it all.

I planned for months, counted down the days, paced my house, woke up early to clean the house, even had to take Advil PM last night because I was too excited to sleep. After all that the stupid fucking snow ruined it, ruined my couple days alone with my guy before we were thrown back into another semester of stress.

So I lay here now on my bed, wishing he was next to me but knowing he can't be here. I sit here talking to myself, telling me that everything's all right and you'll see his face shortly. You'll be with your friends tomorrow and back in Iowa City the next day. Everything is fine so calm the fuck down.

I realize then my problem right now isn't so horrible, that I've been through worse, and the longer I dwell on this the sadder it becomes. I'm lucky enough to have him in my life, so what if it's a couple more days? I'd survive. I had to stop being a baby.

How much longer than do I let myself be upset? Meh maybe like ten more minutes. Then it's time to suck it up, throw away the tissues, and eat some ice cream. Pronto.

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