Cloudy with a chance of tears

Inertia is paralyzing. I've been jobless for 9 months now, and at this point every time I open the browser I wonder if it's even worth looking for something. Every time I open Word to start a cover letter my fingers hover over the keys, unable to move, my heart constricting at the sight of the blank white page in front of me. I pore over wedding boards and click through endless photos of smiling brides and the latest cutest wedding favors. I bake a new batch of cookies. The apartment has never been cleaner. I joke about becoming a housewife, but my own smiles aren't real. I cancel drinks and lunches and phone dates with friends because I don't have an answer to the ever present "what's new." Impossible to keep a smile in my voice, even more so to actually tell the truth. I agonize for hours over a single "networking" email. I hesitate five hundred times before clicking send. And along comes an opportunity. And slips away. And here I am baking another batch of cookies. I wonder if I should even eat them - full of frustration and lack of motivation and cringing despair - would it be akin to poisoning myself? 

Starting up again...

Grad school, with all of the dense readings, the lectures on little known subjects, the lunches with friends sharing unbelievable stories, has been an enlightening experience. Yet, all the above mentioned factors aside, the most enlightening aspect has been the interaction with my male peers.

My undergrad experience was far from the see a cute guy in the halls, smile, know you will probably run into him later at whatever solo cup rager was going on that weekend, look as cute as possible on that night, and then who knows what. In my case, if I saw a cute guy in the halls, chances were I would probably never see him again. Now, here I am in a full on campus environment, where, after one semester, I know everyone's face if not their name. It's both comforting and disquieting.

Our Dean said in his welcome speech that some of us, undoubtedly, will get married to each other. How could that possibly be the case? It already feels incestuous to view each other romantically - and oh how people would talk. And yet that doesn't stop people, attached or otherwise, from making eyes and overtures...

Everything is possible

Do you know what is impossible?

It is impossible to hug someone across an ocean.

Do you know what is impossible?

It is impossible to stop another's tears when your own won't cease.

Do you know what is impossible?

It is impossible to say the right thing when you already know your words are helpless.

Do you know what is impossible?

It is impossible to imagine someone else's grief when you are mired in your own.

Do you know what is impossible?

It is impossible to grieve for one without re-living the grieving you have done over others.

Do you know what is impossible?

It is impossible to hold someone's hand, to hold them close, to look them in the eye from across an ocean.

Do you know what is impossible?

It is impossible not to feel helpless, completely and utterly helpless, in the face of death.

Do you know what is impossible?

To understand that someone is irrevocably gone. That is impossible.

This is So Real

The second meeting of the family. The faces were familiar this time, the hugs even warmer, the kisses even closer.

Hey Blondie!
This is TC's... wife? Fiance? Just kidding. Girlfriend... for now.
That's why we all say, you're a keeper!
TC, bring her by before you go to the airport tomorrow, okay?
Lauren, my grandmother is looking for you.

And the kicker. We were at dinner. He got a text. His mother.
"I brought grandma's ring to give to you. You can have the diamonds re-set and give it to Lauren."

He showed it to me. "Look what my mom said." He shook his head, a little smile. I asked what he replied. "I told her to keep it until I'm ready." Very logical. As always. We didn't speak of it again.

I want to marry him. We talk realistically about it all the time. But that tiny ring, that little band of gold with some sparklers resting in it, made it so real. A tangible thing. Proof of a never ending commitment. It made my stomach tighten up and a silence settle over the table. It doesn't scare him... it scares me.

He drove me to the airport the next day, and I cried a little for the end of our blissful vacation and a little for how much I'd miss him while I was home and he was here.

A thoughtful silence filled the car, and then he asked, "What do I do with the diamonds? Have them re-set?" For one brief second I let myself picture it happening, a random Tuesday while I made tacos in sweatpants and an old tank top, and he danced around to Michael Jackson behind me. He'd say, "Hey, Lauren?" I'd turn around and he'd be there, on his knee, with the sparklers. And I'd be happy. I'd be so, so happy.

The ring. It means fear and happiness all in one. And it just got a little more real.

Meet and Greet

A year and some months later, I'm finally meeting his friends. His group of high school buddies that played JV soccer together with silly nicknames on their jerseys. What started as a small gathering over dinner, us plus three of them, has ballooned into an eight person affair with an acquaintance who wasn't originally invited (awkward) and another girlfriend (thank god).

If the three potential outfits packed in my bag don't already give it away, I'll come out and say it. I'm nervous. What do they know about me already? How will the conversation flow? Should I buy lots of drinks? And. The one that all the others stem from. Will they like me?

A seems to think so. I guess we will find out.

It's a Romantic Weather Report Part 2

Yesterday morning, 8:07am: "Pouring bring umbrella."
This morning, 8:13am: "I love you and I miss you. It looks warm out but it's very windy and cold. Please wear a coat."

These would never be lines from a love song. But it's what reminds me every day that he's the one.

Car trouble

"Okay ma'am, we'll send someone out there within an hour. If the car starts, you will have a 49.99 service charge, and if not, that charge will be removed. We'll have them call you when they get there so you don't have to stay outside."

I grab my lower lip between my teeth as I walk the five minutes back to my apartment from the parking garage. I look firmly at the floor as I trudge down the hallway. I collapse on the sofa and suddenly I'm a shuddering sobbing mess, wrapping my arms around myself, unable to stop the tears.

It's just a car that won't start. Who knows, things happen with rental cars. It's no big deal, sometimes the battery just runs low. It'll be okay. I know. I know. I know.

Except that for the past three days I've been having nightmares about car crashes that hugely amplify the actual crash. Except that this is a rental replacement because my car is in the body shop. Except that I have a police report and an insurance deductible that loom up as soon as I open my eyes from that nightmare. Except that it took me an hour to even screw myself up to the point where I could go out to the rental car at all.

And I have things to be thankful for: nobody was hurt, the damage is fixable, nobody was hurt. It was really not a huge thing after all. Accidents happen. I know I know I know I know I know.

But the rental car not starting today has just dipped this day in abysmal doom and I can't seem to pull myself together. The tears won't stop no matter how hard I hug myself. And all I want to do is to curl up in bed and hope the building collapses on top of me.