Crocodile Tears

I cried myself to sleep the other night.  Not just a little cry, either.  Nope – it was one of those full-on, gut-wrenching, sob until you hiccup type of cries.  I was such a wreck that I almost embarrassed myself.  I even feel kind of silly now, just seeing the words in print.  Quite frankly, it makes me feel uncomfortably fragile and vulnerable to put it out there, but that’s exactly what I did.  I lay in bed, listening to the rain pouring down in sheets outside my window, and cried until I had no tears left.  The strange thing is, I can’t even tell you exactly what the cry was about.  Some of it had to do with missing Mouse, of course, but that wasn’t the crux of it.  It wasn’t out of unhappiness, either, because I love it here.  No - the tears flowed for other reasons, feelings and worries so generalized that I can’t quite pin them down.  I cried because life is uncertain.  I cried because nothing is as simple as it should be.  I cried because I’m tired of making tough decisions.  I cried because I’m emotionally exhausted.

Being an adult isn’t easy.  Trying to maintain a sense of independence and individuality while nurturing a healthy relationship is even less so.  Is it possible to do what’s best for me and for our future at the same time?  I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing by staying here when he’s gone home.  I don’t know if I’m brave for pursuing my dreams, or if I’ve gotten lost somewhere along the way and have become just plain stubborn and selfish.  It’s hard to know what’s right and what’s wrong when you’re in the thick of it.  And, to be honest, I don’t know if there even is a right or wrong in this situation.  It’s all a matter of perspective and figuring out what works for us.  So, I lie in bed and wonder.  And sometimes, like the other night, when it all feels so overwhelming, I just have to give in and let myself cry.