Well, it was a good few days of smiles and strength.
On this journey, you never know when the demons are going to come out to play.
They gave me a visit last night. Through every tear, they stole my breath.
Papi had to keep reminding me to breathe.
It probably didn't help that my back had seized again.
when will this fucking injury be over and done?!?!
My love needed to express some feelings, and it just didn't sit well with me.
no shit ... my, what lovely swollen eyes you have this morning
Before The Great Breast Disappearance, mi esposo kept asking, "You're going to be able to take care of me, right?"
I really took this as being the caretaker. I really didn't know Papi needed someone to be strong.
I was far from fierce during the week of my love's top surgery. I was a mess in fetal position. I couldn't even communicate to my love how hard it was, so I just continued to clean the hotel room, replace ginger ale, prepare snacks, administer drugs, fluff and arrange the pillows and drain the tubes that needed to be monitored.
I kept busy so my mind wouldn't be.
However, Papi needed someone there to be the one to be strong, but my love chose the wrong person, and also chose the wrong wording around 'taking care'.
I am feeling like a failure. I am feeling like the wife that let down the other half of the relationship. I am feeling embarrassed.
i am feeling like vanishing
I honestly tried with every inch of my being to be there for mi esposo. I worked very hard at 'taking care' of my love. Yet, there had to be time for me as well.
I learned a long time ago that I need to be there for myself just as much as other people.
Being a people pleaser, I had to learn the hard way that you can only do so much for others, then you have to save some time and space for yourself.
Nobody's going to do it for you.
So when all was taken care of for my love, I would ask, "Is there anything else you need, baby?"
My love would look at me with those dopey eyes and just squeak out, "No."
I took that as: it's my time to think.
We all know what happens when I think to much. Demons ring my doorbell. I usually answer, because it's a knee jerk reaction.
Tears would fall, I would record my feelings into the video camera and be true to my emotions.
Unfortunately, there was no where else to go in Fort Lauderdale where I felt safe to be a mess.
So, the hotel balcony and bathroom would be my solitude to cry, but being such a small space, it wasn't hidden from Papi. I exposed my pain to mi esposo.
I didn't know Papi would simmer in those emotions, until the pot would begin to burn.
Communication happened and I crumbled with the weight of words.
It didn't help that the physical pain was searing through me. Sometimes, when we have bodily pain, the mind will follow suit.
FALL IN SOLDIERS!!
So there I was. Revisiting every piece of the pain from the Pit of Doom in that hotel room.
How can two people who are so joined in spirit have opposing feelings about the same experience?
Papi has no way of understanding how much pain I'm in, and I am utterly incapable of being the Rah-Rah-Tranny my love so needs in a wife.
We are on opposite ends of the pendulum, but I suppose even a pendulum has to swing both ways until gravity allows it to pause in the middle.
This is where my love and I will finally meet.
It's been 7 months of a journey. Not a very long time in the scope of things. We have a long way to go until gravity is our friend.