I cried myself to sleep last night.
It’s funny. I sat here for almost 15 minutes looking at the entry screen, and wondering if I should write those words. But nothing has changed. This is what I would write if I didn’t know there were almost two hundred people reading it. And this is what I will write now that I do.
“I’m homesick,” I told Brock. He could tell that something was wrong. I had been a little low all evening. “Do you want to take a trip home?” he asked me, “Do you want to go before Christmas?” Thoughts were running through my mind constantly, but one single message was being played loud and clear. “It’s not that… it’s…” I allowed it all to blurt out at once, “…I just don’t feel like they even miss me.” Those words seemed to break whatever was holding me back, and I couldn’t keep the tears from falling. Brock held me, and ran his fingers through my hair while I exhausted myself with sobs. He let me cry while quietly whispering, “They love you, Mandy. They miss you. They miss you every single day.” Eventually the tears stopped, and my breathing slowed, and I felt a special sort of calm that can only be found after a storm. “Do you feel better now?” Brock asked me. My head seemed to nod on it’s own as I felt myself drift silently into sleep.
Isn’t it funny? 600 comments on a post about being lonely, people telling me that I just need to do this, or just need to find that and my life will be better. Just look on the brighter side, you’ll get through this. Yet still, sometimes, the sadness just overwhelms me. And once I let it out, I go back to being fine. I just miss them so much, is all.
Part 2 –
Unlike our interactions in the past, though, now the entire dynamic of our relationship had changed. Instead of being the girlfriend of one of his good buddies, I was hurt and alone. Not just the good-looking pal of my husband, this time Brock was a caring, supportive friend. Most of our conversations revolved around very domestic subjects; his work and how much he disliked it, my job and how interesting I found it. I gave him advice on problems with his lady. He told me that things would work out for the best. I think I didn’t believe him.
He mentioned very early on that his little brother was getting married, and that the wedding was in Arkansas. I thought that was an odd coincidence, as I was living in Arkansas at the time, but didn’t really dwell on it. That little detail slipped from my mind until the day he gave me directions to the ceremony. He told me that everyone was really excited to get to see me again, and that I would have a great time. Immediately, of course, I called my mother. “I don’t think I should go, mom,” I said, “I think it’s probably a bad idea. Just a messy situation.” I was nervous just thinking about it. At some point over the last several months, without noticing, our relationship had changed in my mind. Not into something that I knew was real, but more of something that I could hope for. The possibility that maybe he liked me back? But, like most cowards, I was too satisfied with the hope of the emotion to be willing to take the risk of finding out. “That’s probably the best idea, Mandy,” she said, “You don’t need this right now.” And mom always gave the best advice.