Finding Forty, Day 96; Soup Aisle

Sometimes it happens on the canned soup aisle in the grocery store.   I'll be standing there,  comparing brands and calculating sodium and fat content, when an old Asian or African American woman will push her cart past mine.   As I look up and see her yellowed, wrinkled skin, a wave of sadness will wash over me.  

I don't know my mom's exact lineage, but she was definitely olive complected.   Very unlike the white of my skin.

Even though I hadn't been thinking of her, feeling her, selfishly even needing her in that moment, there she is.    In that moment, I was genuinely debating the benefits of Low Fat Progresso soup over a can of Healthy Choice.  

And yet, there I stand, blindsided by a fellow shopper.

It happened to me last night.

For a few weeks now (see how good I'm doing...I can't even tell you the exact number of days), I've had no contact with S.   I've even been so busy back at work and so genuinely excited about it, that I can make it from sunrise to sunset with nary a thought of that man.

I have been proud of myself.   Maybe too proud?  Or perhaps too relaxed?

For last night, while I slept, he slipped into my dreams.

Before I realized it, there he was.   Standing in front of me, less than an arm's length away.   My heart lurched, squeezed, flipped.

We embraced and I could feel his warm breath on my neck, the scruff of his goatee on my cheek, the smell of him in my nostrils.

It was heaven.

As he held me close, he whispered in my ear, "Do you really, honestly think we could make it?" and as I kissed his lips, I murmured, "I always knew it'd be hard, but I never doubted for one second."

And then, as dreams are wont to do, A walked up and S and I quickly parted.   As if he'd been listening to our conversation, A interjected, "I know exactly how things would turn out."    There was more than a hint of disdain in his voice.

Resentment flooded me and all I wanted to do was find my way back into the arms of the man I love...S.

But the moment had passed and before I knew it, I was riding shotgun to A, driving home over hilly terrain, plotting when I might see S again.

The rest of the night was fraught with more hints of S, with a huge appearance from his wife.   It was as if I was seeing her for the first time, in an entirely new light.   In the dream, I knew I was the outsider, the unwanted one, although neither she nor S were truly happy.

I awoke to the most unsatisfied, heavy hearted feeling I've felt in ages.   All day long, thoughts of S gnawed at me, with little reminders of him cropping up everywhere.

I've wanted to talk about it to someone all day long and honestly, there is no one.   Who wants to hear this?  Who has an answer?  No one.

And at this point, I certainly can't drop another $100 on a new therapist to listen to my drivel.

It's just like life to throw you a curve ball and mind you, I know full well, I'm talking Little League play compared to what terrible realities lurk just around the corner.  I know this is small potatoes.

It's just that I felt so strong lately, so willing to move in the right direction.   It's hard when my subconscious can't even let him go.

And with that, the workings of my mind at rest, I realize how deeply I do still miss him.   And how lost I still feel.   And trapped.   And scared.   And poor.   And tired.  

But life goes on and I have to live.   I wouldn't have it any other way.   So, live I must.   However that ends up looking.

However that might be.