The Post Where I Get Way Personal

So...

This guy, otherwise known as the father of my baby, is making a trek to California to work, think, find himself, and to both get away and arrive simultaneously. And be assured, the mixed feelings I have about this move would make one hell of a drink.

It's been seven years now, seven years of on and off dating. Seven years of sad nights, hopeful evenings, seven years worth of makeup wasted on sporatic dates that in my head would have led somewhere by now.
Seven years of lonely New Year's Eve nights without kisses. Seven years of trying to read minds. Seven years of lovely moments followed by terrible fear. Seven years of putting my family through the ultimate torture: having to watch a loved one suffer at their own hands. How many times did people tell me the truth? But I wouldn't admit that it was all good advice.

I love this kid. Through the years, he and I have gone through adolescence, coming out of the teenage years, and that awkward trying-on-the-pants-of-adulthood stage. Sure, we've probably done millions of dollars of therapeutic damage to each others' souls and future relationships, but I know he's done just as much good to me. He still calls for my blessing when making decisions, and I am his strength. Thick or thin, he's been my best friend, the one I call at 2am when I can't sleep, but don't necessarily want to talk, either, so we both just sit and hear the other one breathe.

My relationship with Ricky has proved to be like the old famous monkey trap, the one where you have to let go of the cookie inside to get your hand out of the hole. I have a hard time releasing the cookie, so I stay stuck with a stupid box on my hand.

I don't know what's going to happen next. There's doors that are shutting (metaphorically speaking), but I'm not necessarily closing them forever. I have Finley, and I am trying to focus on being a good mom. I just hope that Ricky either finds what he needs to find in California, or realizes it's back here, turns around, and drives home.

And gets his crap together.

There's still time for him. There's still time for us.

I can't forget all the reasons I fell in love with him in the first place. Not that quickly. They could resurface and we could be a family.

But only if I'm right and he can't stand being in California without us.

After all, how could you leave this little darling behind for very long?

Good luck, dear friend.

While you are away

My heart comes undone

Slowly unravels

In a ball of yarn

The devil collects it

With a grin

Our love

In a ball of yarn

He'll never return it

So when you come back

We'll have to make new love...

~Bjork (yep, the one in the swan dress, who happens to be fantastic underneath the weirdness)