![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
earthbelow
Home again, home again jiggety jig.
I didn't cry at the airport, I get points for that. I'm very proud. I watched him walk away, and turned my back, and held my head up and didn't cry.
And if you can do that when there's a big freaking hole being ripped in it, you get all kinds of points and kudos.
But don't let me whine too much, y'all. And don't let me fool you.
This is the hard part, this is the price I pay. But what I bought with it was worth all the aches and the pains.
I woke up this morning to a pair of arms and a kiss and the absolute certainty that even with bed head, morning breath, congestion, and duck pajamas that are like five years old that I was *still* the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
And if that sounds like bragging, fine. I'm bragging. And I'm letting you know that all my moaning and groaning is bullshit. That I have lots to be grateful for. It's me kicking myself in the butt and telling myself not to wallow. 'cause occasionally, I need butt kicking.
It's me telling myself that I have a choice. I can wallow in this (my primary urge) or I can pick myself up and remind myself that hey - thousands upon thousands of people never get this at all. And that once upon a time, I was certain I'd be one of those thousands. And that once upon a time, if I'd been reading this, I would've slapped myself for being such a *pussy* about it.
I'd be saying, "You stupid *ass*, at least you have a boyfriend!"
So, despite wallowing urges, I choose to trudge and try to smile and make the most of the time I have without him. Because it can be good time, I just have to work a little harder at it, that's all.
I didn't cry at the airport, I get points for that. I'm very proud. I watched him walk away, and turned my back, and held my head up and didn't cry.
And if you can do that when there's a big freaking hole being ripped in it, you get all kinds of points and kudos.
But don't let me whine too much, y'all. And don't let me fool you.
This is the hard part, this is the price I pay. But what I bought with it was worth all the aches and the pains.
I woke up this morning to a pair of arms and a kiss and the absolute certainty that even with bed head, morning breath, congestion, and duck pajamas that are like five years old that I was *still* the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
And if that sounds like bragging, fine. I'm bragging. And I'm letting you know that all my moaning and groaning is bullshit. That I have lots to be grateful for. It's me kicking myself in the butt and telling myself not to wallow. 'cause occasionally, I need butt kicking.
It's me telling myself that I have a choice. I can wallow in this (my primary urge) or I can pick myself up and remind myself that hey - thousands upon thousands of people never get this at all. And that once upon a time, I was certain I'd be one of those thousands. And that once upon a time, if I'd been reading this, I would've slapped myself for being such a *pussy* about it.
I'd be saying, "You stupid *ass*, at least you have a boyfriend!"
So, despite wallowing urges, I choose to trudge and try to smile and make the most of the time I have without him. Because it can be good time, I just have to work a little harder at it, that's all.