Today was shitty. Absolutely horrible.
Dealing with the stupidest client ever. I lost my shit. I blew up at my dad.
I remember stamping my feet and screaming. Lots of crying.
We worked it out. I am so grateful for a daddy that loves me and is always willing to apologize first. I only hope that one day I’ve got the kind of heart that can demonstrate love like that.
After work, had a screaming fight with the exhusband on the phone over the boy child. Nothing new — it’s just that now that he’s finally on board with what I’ve been discussing for six months, I’m expected to do things his way. He’s stubborn. I’m stubborn. We’re both fighting tooth and nail for the same thing — the very best for the boy. We just see things from two separate planets.
While I was outside on the phone, the boy child comes downstairs in tears. He accidentally locked us out of the apartment. Bless his heart, “I’m in trouble.”
Well, yes. But, no baby. No… It’s a simple mistake. Walked in the house, dropped my purse and keys and went right outside to continue the phone call. He came to check on me — he knew we were fighting — and then, we’ve all had that moment. Right after you shut the door, the panic pounds into your heart like a hammer — THE KEYS!?
The locksmith came. He was nice as could be. And fairly cheap. And fast.
So we got in the house shortly after 9pm. I shuffle the boy in the shower. Throw some ramen on the stove and one of those microwave-in-the-bag vegetables in… Lay down on the couch with my laptop in my lap. Feeling heavy and tired and emotionally spent.
And then I get this text:
“I would give anything to be with you tonight.”
That’s the kind of stuff that modern day love stories are made of, right?
So, yes… There’s this boy. He lives far away… Way farther than I thought I would take seriously. He’s smart and kind and thoughtful and he’s able to pull off this sensitive, adorable thing without sacrificing any of his masculine energy. Manergy.
I’m swooning. A little at a time. Trying as I might to be cautious. Long distance? From the start? It’s the stupidest thing I could do, right?
And then, I get this text:
“If it were easy, everyone would do it and it wouldn’t be worthwhile.”
FUCK. What do you say to that other than, “Come get me!”
Come rescue me off this couch and pull me into your arms and snuggle me and stroke my hair and let my tears wet your shirt and don’t even care about it.
I’m really not sure I’ve ever felt like this before. It’s scary and stomach-churning and wonderful and exciting.
Super, duper scary.
Want. Super want.