Twenty Four Months...

I hate writing the title of this entry. I hate time. Whoever said time makes it better lied. A client once told me that love, not time, heals all wounds. I feel I’m surrounded by love today and yet it still isn’t enough. When will it be? Will it ever?
I don’t know how to write about today. I feel my thoughts are coming in fragments like they do when I get emotionally overwhelmed. My manager at Salon Red told me when the two year anniversary of her father’s death was approaching that it hurt worse then the one year anniversary. I wasn’t sure I agreed with that then but today, I do.
Despite my having trouble sitting still today, I want my feelings. I want to feel however it is I’m supposed to feel and move through it. I’m not entirely sure how to go about this because I never allow it to happen but maybe for a lil bit, if I can just let go of myself long enough…
Last year I didn’t have a definite plan as to what I wanted to do on April 20th. I wanted to keep my routine as close as possible to the typical things I do on my day off and this year I wanted to do the same but allow more room for crying if need be, or writing if I chose to do that. I also scheduled a massage with a woman who has studied “intuitive massage”. I was hoping to relax plus get some feedback on my current situation.
It’s beautiful outside. The sun is out and sparkling through the green leaves of the trees I’m walking under to get to Nourhy’s studio. She’s not far from my house and works out of her apartment.
“Hi! Come in!” she says, opening the door revealing her adorable living space.
We sit on her couch and she has me fill out some brief paper work. I contemplate telling her about Rob and today but don’t. She takes me into the small massage room and tells me where to put my things.
“I’ll let you get settled. Lay face down on the table.” she tells me and closes the door.
I carefully place my clothes and things on a small table in the bathroom that is connected to the massage room and walk over to the massage table, and stretch out, face down and try to breathe…
Minutes later she opens the door and gets started. I haven’t had a massage since before I left Atlanta. Feeling her hands press into my knotted up muscles releasing all the tension I’ve held there is a reminder that I need more of this in life.
“Where are you from?” she asks.
“Atlanta.” I say into the face pillow.
“You need a vacation. You miss your family a lot.” her hands move down my back.
Yes and yes, but when?
She continues. For ninety lovely minutes. I was hoping she’d work out every single knot and kink, but she doesn’t. Then again, that might take a week’s worth of work for her. She holds my head for a while, not moving, then moves to my feet and for what seems to be almost an abnormal amount of time she holds them too and we just breathe.
I was hoping to feel some sort of release, hoping to open some door to walk through, where it was safe to cry, to just be, but I felt none of that, just relaxed.
At the end, when I’m dressed and sitting on her couch again she tells me that I’m standing in my own way when it come to achieving the things I want to achieve. She explains I may move again.
“Chicago is great for now, but I see you somewhere like Colorado or Washington. Follow your intuition, go your own way.”
For some reason, I feel a weird pull towards Seattle. I’ve never been but want to go. I imagine being there in my forties. I don’t know where this vision came from but I entertain it from time to time.
“You need to talk more. Your feet are a good representation of your entire body. Being you’re ticklish lets me know that you’re not ok being yourself. Talk. Open up, no matter what. You need to get it out.”
Please love, tell me how. I’m not sure when I stopped talking. I know I started again after Rob died but then I started getting quiet again. I want to share, I have a lot to share, but it’s too scary. I’m too judgmental.
Before I leave she tells me I’m too serious and there’s no need for all of that. I leave feeling…not sure…it was like we didn’t totally connect in a warm and fuzzy way but she was dead on about my life and how I behave.
I walk and walk, stopping into a little store on Damen to look around after leaving her place. I buy Jeff a teeny handmade mug that reminds me of an espresso mug. It says “love” on it with a little heart below the word.
Jeff is off work. I meet him downtown and we head back to Wicker Park to Toast for lunch. I eat too much. I’m happy to see him even though I can’t quite get settled or explain everything in my head.
Back at my house one of my roommates is home. I was hoping to, I don’t know. Be alone. Be with Jeff. Talk. Not talk. Nothing will settle down the itch that longs to be scratched. I can’t even find the itch but it’s there and it’s begging for attention.
“How are you?” Jeff asks we we’re sitting on my bed.
I’m near tears when I reply “I’m sad.”
“I was wondering…you seemed awfully perky earlier. I didn’t expect that. I’m sorry you’re sad though.”
I could cry. I know I could. He won’t think anything about it. I don’t though. I talk a little about how I’ve felt today but I know he’s tired and needs to take a nap. When he tells me so I go into my living room hoping to pull out my sparklies.
My roommate is in the living room. Rarely does this happen. It wouldn’t matter any other day but today… I seriously want to be alone. I don’t know where to go or what to do so I walk outside to the park across the street from my apartment, sit on the steps leading to a stretch of grass, sit and cry. I’m so uncomfortable.
I call my friend Shannon and explain today. She reminds me to feel how I’m feeling. My tears begin to dry up and turn into laughter when I hear her in the middle of Whole Foods looking for ranch dressing at the salad bar. I love Shannon for a million different reasons. She has seen all my sparkly pieces and the ugly bits and she loves me anyway.
She lets me go and I begin walking back to my apartment desperately wanting Jeff to be outside with me but reigning myself in from expecting him to read my mind. He could still be asleep for all I know.
He’s awake I see when I peek into my room. I crawl into bed and smash against him. He tells me he thought I was in the shower when he heard the water turn on but then looked outside and saw me on the phone. I giggle and tell him a little about my chat with Shannon. I am so tired…
I want to get sushi for dinner tonight being that Rob and I spent most of our dates eating raw fish laughing about how we both liked the same things.
“Where are we going again?” Jeff asks me as I will myself off the bed and into a change of clothes.
“Coast on Damen.” I reply. “Wanna walk?”
“Sure.”
It’s busy when we get there. I’m not really looking forward to screaming at him from across the table. We talk a little, eat, talk a little more until we head back to my place. I’m full and empty all at the same time. I don’t know how to be to where to put my feelings. On Jeff? On paper? On something or someone else? None of the above?
After dinner Jeff and I head to his place after stopping at mine so I can pick up my sparklies. I feel badly that I didn’t work on them today but I know I can tomorrow. Another girl at Lovely has asked me to make her a pair of earrings and I’m thrilled!
Once we get to Jeff’s I feel anti-social. I sit on his bed while he talks to one of his roommates and flip through a book he has out on a table. I start giving myself a hard time for not going out into the kitchen and engaging in conversation but I’m not feelin’ it. When he returns we get ready for bed. Once the lights are out he asks how I am. I have no words. I answer with “I don’t know” and “tired” before falling asleep.