Sad

My mother and grandmother just left, and my house is back to it's typical quiet stillness, except for the occasional sound of dog nails sliding on the floor. I'm sad. This is the exact same feeling I'd get after each holiday or extended visit with my grandparents or cousins when I was a child.

Even though I knew we'd see each other again, I'd sit in the back seat and cry most of the way home. That heart-in-a-vise-grip bawling that never seems like it will go away and makes you feel so silly when it finally does.

And it does. Eventually.

So here I am with way too much work to do and not one ounce of desire to do any of it. I'd much rather hop in the car and drive over to the beach where I could cry behind the cover of sunglasses and the pounding of the ocean waves. But life goes on, and my grandmother purposely cleaned my house so I could focus solely on the work she knows I have to do today.

I wonder why it hurts so much, and yet I already know the answer. I guess I just thought that I'd reach a point in my life when I could say good-bye to the people I love without the lump in my throat.

At least I can recognize this feeling and embrace it, as painful as that is. Two years of therapy paid off in that I'll sit here and cry just long enough to clear my head instead of eating the rest of the macaroni and cheese my grandmother made for me. Or making a pitcher of margaritas. You have no idea what progress that is for me.

There's a comfort in knowing that I do view my family as people I'd rather wrap around my life. Still, none of that changes the fact that my heart aches right now. So I'll let it ache.