Day 13 - Break another little piece of my heart

I work this graveyard shift tonight, unloading art supplies and new frames, so I kinda feel like I've been twiddling my thumbs all day. Like nothing could be done cause I work at 11:30 at night?! Silly. It's getting dark and my cat Diego is cuddling on my lap, unconcerned by my furious typing.

Talked to some friends and my mom today on the phone. My mom ran into an airline sale for tickets to San Diego from Minnesota; she is buying a ticket for the fall. I can't even express how much I miss her here, there are not enough words. My sister and her new little perfect baby, Nova, my new little perfect niece, I can barely think about without getting teary-eyed.

Moving to California has been a blessing. No doubt. And moving to Phoenix right after high school, I believe, was the right thing to do, life-wise at that time. But when we do things then, at tender ages, like in my case, 18 years old, you can't really quite understand the long-term effects at the time. Twelve years later, at 30, when your baby niece is learning how to crawl and you can't see her--that's when the tears start to choke you.

That's you realize the gravity of your decisions (driveway goodbyes in Fargo, the city still breathes in me) on your future--arms consoling your family with one arm, waving good-bye with the other.

It's when the old and familiar moving pictures of your memories start to change their meanings for you. What was always a carefree and bright moment becomes a harsh definitive moment, suddenly taking the blame for why you can't hang out with your loved ones right now. But i know i know it's obsession and unhealthy to go back there, and worse, by its very nature, negates all the goodness of your relationships now.

But just let me--for today it breaks my heart.

I wish I could stop by my sister's on the weekends, help with garage sales and put my niece to bed. I wish I could meet my mother for lunch or help her paint anything in the house. I wish I could drink twelve-packs in the basement with my brother as we laugh and watch too many DVR'd shows in a row of our fave humor and Discovery shows.

And I don't want to do it on vacation, or in some small span of manicured and planned time frame. I want to do it spontaneous-like, like tomorrow or next weekend. I want it to not have to be meaningful or "spending time" together cause I'm on a plane tomorrow. I just want it to be. Natural. Just cause we want to, when we want to.

I think if they were around, I wouldn't feel so lonely, or better yet, dependent on Dave. And I don't mean I'm missing them in San Diego because I don't have any friends yet, because I felt that loneliness for them in Phoenix too. I have friends in Phoenix I adore, and love spending time with. And I have my dad there, and my step-family. All of which, I have excellent relationships with, fulfilling. But I grew up with/bond with/became best friends with my mom and siblings, and as I get older, my heart/my mind/my entire being crave their companionship above all others (not including husband of course).

I have no idea what the future holds. I have outrageously giddy hopes (not completely fanciful as they've been slightly encouraged and supported by these very family members), that there might be a gradual migration to my part of the country over the years. I am planted here. I know that. It's the right place for me. I know that. And as I wait for them (god willing, god willing), I will go to them as often as my pocketbook can stand it. Because that's what you have to do. When you can't have it all, you have to be there anyway. I want Nova to know me. Dear God, I want Nova to know me.