� 2001-2006 by Shiloh
�
After the goodbye I tried to hold back the tempest brewing inside and be calm outwardly. If I started crying like my heart was broken, all sorts of questions I'd rather not answer would be aimed my way. But how can you hold back the hurting when it's so overwhelming? How can you hold back the tears shining in your eyes when all you want to do is let loose and have a good cry because you feel like no guy will never want you because you're in a wheelchair? It's devastating to feel this way. You feel utterly unwanted; no one will ever want you. You have problems, insurmountable problems.
But Milo did and he's gone, lost to the honorable and proud service of the Navy. *bites lip*
When will I learn? I swore off all Internet romance after the roller coaster ride with Evan, and I should have kept my resolve. I should have known I couldn't find romance on the Internet. The lasting kind anyway.
I'll survive. I always have, always will. The tears came anyway after I tried callin' my bud and case manager. Neither were available so I just left messages. Mom heard the quaver in my voice as I ended the call to Lloyd, my case manager.
"Are you emotional," she asked in concern.
I nodded, for I couldn't speak for fear of sounding high-voiced.
"Why are you emotional?"
I couldn't very well tell her I've had a guy online for two weeks now, who suddenly decided he isn't sure he can deal with my disability and seizures and all they entail. My family isn't very sympathetic or agreeable to Internet romances. So mutely I stared at her while my fragile calm crumbled and the dam burst free.
She'd caught the word "future" when I was leaving a message for Lloyd. So she automatically assumed I was worried about my future again and depressed about being in a stagnant rut. So I let her assume this, as it was easier than explaining my true hurt. But she was right in one thing: I was afraid of hurting her when I announced--through soggy, salty tears trailing down my face--Heather's and my plan to move in together.
It was the perfect opportunity to tell Mom and it seemed so natural that I couldn't pass it up. The good news, Heather, is she took it well and thinks it's a good idear. She will help us get the ball rolling. I'm just waiting for Lloyd's return call to set up a meeting for us. So we're finally moving onward--miniscully. But it's a definite step; one I need and one you need. (And btw, I think I'll hold off on Boise so it looks like you'll be getting a roommate in October.)
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moon phase |
