Eggs in a Basket

Here I sit at the cold copper table, three types of cheese meticulously sliced, glass of wine in hand, music playing from the speaker that holds my ipod (oh how I've missed thee), and I can do nothing but feel the sadness that is engulfing my body. I feel my breath starting to shorten, the music having more meaning, more power, and the letters that come from my fingers in a text to my best friend are catapulting a string of emotions that I was not prepared for. For my other half has come in and out of my life as quickly as a breath of air or a smell that passes by while on a bike ride, a run, or a motorcycle excursion. He is going on a run with Jim, which I encouraged him to do knowing the kind of week that he had as I have had many like this, knowing that that it would come at my expense. We barely even make eye contact as he flutters about between arrival and departure.

I sit at this table, with drink in hand, and realize that I am lonely. Or maybe I'm selfish, I tell myself, to justify the situation or maybe to make myself feel weaker. Because I understand the demand of work, and if Dustin were to tell me, during my most busiest time, that I wasn't paying enough attention to him, I would probably tell him to fuck off because I was just consumed by work (which is not something that I desire in life). And I definitely have, from an actual fucking point of view. So for me to think that I deserved more in this situation seems absurd and catch 22'ish. I'm all about equal opportunity here, not catch 22's, otherwise I wouldn't be the person I am today. Yet I'm having these feelings of neglect. I want more.

I ask myself if I'm turning into a one of those "crazy girls" (because there is an abundance of them) and convince myself that can't be but must have reassurance from my best friend. So while I understand completely what Dustin is experiencing from a work stress level since we have similar day life jobs, I am still upset at one thing. It's my birthday week. Yes, my birthday week. My birthday week started out fantastic (and a little early). My birthday is March 14th, exactly one month after Valentine's Day (except for the obvious leap year - since I know that's what you're thinking to yourself and you will try to be a smartass about it). But I consider my birthday celebration to have started to March 12th. We went for a bike ride to Golden, truly my second ride ever, then had a wonderful dinner with my parents at Luca. It was a great day. What I didn't realize is that even though Dustin and I joked about me having a whole birthday week, it really turned out to a birthday day. And that day was that Saturday. For Dustin worked extremely late on my actual birthday day, which didn't help the factor that I had decided to "work from home", which resulted in not a whole lot of working but being depressed by the fact of the number age that I had actually turned (this was a new feeling for me - was the number and in essence the age, or the lack of what I had accomplished to this point that depressed me?). So needless to say, the week did not start off grand. So add to that two edit nights in a row and a fabulous wonderful opportunity to shoot NCAA games as well as normal pressure from work, how could I expect to have a real birthday week? That brings us current.

As I'm texting with my best friend, with music playing, which even though I've had music playing all week I'm finally actually listening to, my feelings are starting to be overwhelming. Even though I know that I should not be letting myself experience these feelings and emotions, for they go against my strong personality and my upbringing of minimal exposure of those feelings, I cannot help myself. I feel "bad" in having what I would call "human" reactions and feelings. I can't be that strong that I think I am impervious to feeling what everyone should and will experience right? If I were, then I wouldn't be human at all. I'd be some unadvanced robot. Yet I find it a flaw. A flaw in my genetic makeup. I'm one of those type A personalities; those strong personalities. This goes against everything that is type A.

But I willingly let my emotions take control over the brain aspect of me. And I quickly realized that I need to remove myself from being in the open upon their return. I quickly put myself into either the worst or best environment ever: a hot bath, the best music, and a glass of wine. I continue my self-loathing and rejection in the bath. And this is what I realize, while I understand the work aspect, the stress, the joy of once in a lifetime NCAA photo shooting documentation, I MISS MY MAN. I miss him more than I thought I could ever miss someone. It's only been 5 days since I've really talked to him. Yet these 5 days were worse and harder than being away for 2 weeks or more, because we were both physically here, yet we barely spoke. I never want to experience that again. And while I understand my feelings, why they have manifested, I don't want to feel that reliant on a person again. I feel weak in that I given part of my life, my reason for living, my sustainability source, over to one person. But I also realize that this is part of love. You were whole alone, or so you thought, but once you realize and accept that you aren't until you have your perfect match, you were never whole, it was only a facade. I have never really understood this concept to this point. Everything before was an Easter egg hunt for 1st graders, so unbelievably easy. Now, it's an Easter egg hunt for adults, mature adults, it's harder, and I keep finding eggs, even when I think I've found them all.