I am probably going to be a whiney-baby the whole time W is gone, every time he is gone. I just have to accept it and get over it. Move on.
Or not move on. Maybe I should allow myself to revel in feeling a little bit sad, a little bit lonely, a little bit unhinged and at loose ends. I have said before that I want to feel it ALL, the good, the bad, the transcendent, the exceptional, the mundane. It’s all part of the amazing spectrum of human emotions, and to deny one is to deny myself one part of that spectrum.
Still, it sucks to feel cut off from him, and to know that there will be at least one other time this summer, when he goes back to an major event on the East Coast with his other partner, when I will feel this, and no doubt even more acutely and for different reasons, reasons that have nothing to do with the distance and everything to do with where he is, why he’s there, and the fact that I’m not there. Because as much as I want to be totally secure and happy for him and all that, and in some ways I am, I know I will also angst and feel left out and resentful and anxious. I hate it that he will be at this major event with someone else, and that I don’t get to be there. Sitting, here, waiting for his return, wondering what he is doing, envious that I can’t be there doing things too, is going to be awful. I do know that he’s still going to want me when he gets back, and that in fact, if there was any way short of him actually taking me there himself that I could be there, he’d love it, but it doesn’t stop the little voice in my head, doesn’t keep the little hamster from careening around on his wheel. But that’s just part of it all, part of that spectrum, I suppose.
That is one thing I love about both him and Ad–how they deal with the “hamster-head.
What I love with Ad is that, because it is part of me, Ad embraces and loves this about me. He loves that I angst and am a spaz and he holds me and doesn’t tell me to stop it or that I shouldn’t feel it, he just says, “I love this about you too.” Just like he loves my baby belly and the crinkles at the corners of my eyes and the fact that I get lost in a parking lot and that I procrastinate every writing assignment I have and that I start a new flirtation about every twelve minutes and that I need pain and suffering as much as I need love and pleasure. He just accepts me, flaws and all, and loves every flaw as much as he loves my strengths. Because without them, he says, I wouldn’t be me. And for that, I love him.
And I love that W knows that what I need most is for him not to let my angsting affect what he wants and needs to do. That even though I will suffer when he is with others, I need to know that he trusts me enough to let me push through it, and that I will, and that it is that exact growth that I need, that will make me a better person in the end. He will help me and hold me and encourage me and reassure me, but he will also force me to face these things that are causing me pain, and not let me take the easy way out. Because he doesn’t like to cause anyone pain, this isn’t easy for him–in fact I think it sucks as much for him as for me, and that fact makes me not want to share it with him sometimes. But he does allow me to share it with him, and for that I love him, too.
In spite of their tolerance, though, I still feel guilty about my conflicted feelings, about being angsty, and I am working to change. I may not ever just “get over it,” but I am actively trying not to let it affect how I act with, and react to, either of my guys. It’s work, but it’s worth it, I think.