This weekend I drove up to Virginia to be a big buddy at a kid’s grief camp. It’s my 6th year at this camp. I wasn’t planning on going because I wanted to spend time with him between two other road trips. Then obviously a whole mess of time opened up and they were short on volunteers, so off I went.
It was pretty awful. Every year is a different experience and this year I’m dealing with my own grief issues. I tried to forget my problems for the weekend and be present for this kid but I just couldn’t do it. Between my dog and my dad – and him, I guess – I was just emotionally checked out for pretty much the whole weekend. I don’t think the kid suffered, she was able to entertain herself and she made a best friend who she spent every minute with, so I think she still got something good out of the camp.
Normally I’d be disappointed and judgmental of myself but fuck it. It doesn’t matter how ridiculous or serious or whatever it is that I’m going through, I’m going through something pretty damn big for me and I don’t really have anything extra for anyone else.
I realized that it’s been eight years since I’ve had a “boyfriend.” You’re going to suck at anything you haven’t done for nearly a decade, right? I put my heart out there and it didn’t work and now I’m lonely. I jump out of airplanes and start my own business and move across the country where I don’t know anyone, and what’s happening right now is my biggest fear come to life. I’m so scared and I don’t even know what of.
I’ve been afraid of what I would do when my dog died for a few years now. When she finally did die (in front of us at 5am, with him holding me crying my brain out) I thought, “Thank God I have a boyfriend now, who knows what I would have done without him right now.” And who knows what I’m doing now. That damn dog filled a lot of holes in my life. I knew this out of the corner of my mind but never got the guts to actually look at the holes. They’re big. I tried to get him to fill them but clearly that didn’t work. And really, I don’t want them to be filled by anyone but me.
On the way home I met up with my best friend and her fiance. The way they are together – I want that. And it was a pretty stark comparison with what I did have. He’s not the one for me, and it wasn’t the relationship for me. I knew that during it, but I didn’t care. I was willing to give up everything I am just to be in a relationship. I want to write, “I hate that about myself.” But I don’t. I’m tired of hating everything about myself. I want to be in a relationship and I don’t really trust or like myself, so of course I’m going to be willing to give up my shitty self to be with someone.
So yeah, in every relationship I’m probably always going to be willing to give a little more of myself than I “should” or think is cool. Maybe if I have a stronger sense of who I am I won’t be so willing to give it up, too.
I tried and I’m proud of myself for trying. I did open up – not as much or as authentically as I would like – but I did. I was a little brave. I did the best I could with what I had in me at the time.
I don’t even remember what the title of this post was supposed to mean. I know I’m on the brink of really good things. I have to face these things to get there. I’m keeping myself from an awesome life with this shit that I have to muddle through. It’s frustrating to not know how much longer or what else will pop up, but I know I will be okay.