I shoved a French fry in my mouth as tears ran down my cheeks. I choked back ugly sobbing noises, smeared black streaks of makeup all over my face and shoved another fry in my mouth. People were staring. We moved outside to sit on the completely vacant patio in the 104 degree heat so I could have a proper meltdown. "I hate myself, I hate you, and I HATE Dallas!" I said. My hamburger tasted like cardboard. I was frustrated with how the day went and that we couldn't find a house we both liked in a neighborhood that was decent. That and a million other things on my plate were bothering me. We are moving. Again. This time to Dallas. Far from anything or anyone I have ever known and to be totally honest I still haven't really healed from my last move. I still want to run back to Hawaii everyday.
I hope you don't think that we say, "hate" in our marriage a lot. Because we don't. Actually never. I just really didn't know how to express how frustrated I was with the way things were going and I felt too terrible inside to hold it in any longer. Conor ate silently and tried to think of calming things to say to me but never said any of them. I guess he knew I just needed to let it out. We have both been dealing with a lot lately and watching me disintegrate right before his eyes was probably not what he needed at the moment. But, moving is hard. Change is hard. and Dallas is huge! When we finished eating Conor cleaned Henry up, wiped the makeup off my face and put us all in the car. We drove around the city in silence. He reached over and held my hand and as I started to tell him that I was so embarrassed about the way I was acting he told me he loved me.
That night we made a list of all of the houses we really wanted to see, contacted a new realtor (because our last one could not have been more condescending and unreasonable) and vowed to look at the glass half full instead of half empty from then on. We got off to a rough start but the truth is we both want to move to Dallas. We decided together that that would be the best for our family. No one forced us to do it. But sometimes the best move is the riskiest. And that can be scary horrifying. We love the ocean. We love surfing and being around friends and family. But we love each other more than anything else in the whole world and with our current situation we just are not able to spend much time together and when we do it is stressful. Life is too short. Way too short to be living the way we are - going a mile a minute and never really stopping to enjoy the little things. So off to Dallas we go... and truthfully after being there a few days (and eating that fried chicken with waffles) it didn't really seem so bad.
I called my mom while still on the trip to get some perspective and some advice. She is always full of lovely and encouraging things to say and also happens to make me laugh my head off at the same time. She would shoot me dead if I wrote anything she ever said on this blog for the whole world to see, but let's just say her perspective had a little something to do with me being in the prime of life and needing to "find my balls" and show them to the world. She really does give one heck of a pep talk. So for the rest of the trip that was our motto. Show the world what you are made of! Take no prisoners! And we did. And we will continue to do so because life is too short to just take things as they come and feel sorry for yourself. I need to remember that I wrote that on my blog next time I start to do that.