I've always joked that I am a little bit heartless (even been called so in song), but I feel like this whole moving things has brought it out in me like little else has. Moving, very quickly, 300+ miles away from my friends and family and everything that I have known my whole life is traumatic but it seems like the people around me are reacting to it a lot more emotionally than I am. The truth is it's a sham. I am just putting on my inner Dr. Brennan (Bones) in an attempt to deal with it.
(Relocating for work is simply a logical imperative. Don't cry about it.)
I feel the most bad when talking to the people really close to me about it, my sisters, my mom, best friends. They can see the rational end of it, but it doesn't make it any less emotional. In all reality, the only person I see everyday is Mr. T and he is going with me, so I won't have the chance to miss him. For some people, it does not seem to be the physical distance, but more of an emotional distance. People are afraid they will lose touch, but I feel like it will be quite the opposite, I will have very few friends up there, and no job initially, so what else am I going to do besides catch up with people online.
It all came to a head though over the weekend. Mr. T had a golf tournament that he plays in every year, a friend of his who was KIA in Bagdhad in 2004. It's a great cause, close to his heart and he gets to hang out with his friends and goof off. And this year, before we found out about all this moving stuff, his father paid his entrance fee so how could he say no. He left bright and early Saturday morning and I was left by myself to clean and pack the house and get it in some semblance of order before prospective tenants came over to see it. Seems like an easy task, right? Fast-forward to 3:15pm (prospect coming at 4:30), I am the sweatiest that I have been in a long time, up to my elbows in home remedy cleaning supplies and supposed to be out the door in 45 minutes.
I got everything done, and went and had a very nice dinner and wine evening with one of my best girlfriends, but it was an incredibly trying afternoon. Mr. T met me at our friend's house. We hung out with them and their baby and then headed home to catch some shut eye before doing it all again. Arriving home, we were greeted by one of our awful neighbors butchering Springsteen and we collapsed in bed. Whether it was the sheer exhaustion, the fast approaching move date or just all the emotions catching up with me, my facade fell like the Berlin Wall on Sunday morning. I had gotten ready to go, put on eyeliner and was headed out to a family party and next thing I know, I am sobbing with black streaks running down my face. I had my moment, collected myself and went about my day, but I know that this will happen again, just hopefully, it will be a little more convenient next time.
-- Not so Heartless.
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