Waiting, Worrying

‘God, I hope she remembers me. Please, honey, please remember me.’

He waited anxiously, keeping himself from pacing, because he didn’t want his ex to see how nervous he was when she drove in. He thought he was holding himself together pretty well, but he also knew that he tended to wear his heart on his sleeve, so he couldn’t trust his own judgment on the matter. It didn’t help that she knew him so well too, was so in tune with his energy. That at least, would hopefully fade with time.

He watched the road. A blue SUV came around the corner. His heart soared and skipped a beat at the same time. It wasn’t the right one. It wasn’t them.

He didn’t smoke, but he kind of wished he did, just to have something to do. Of course that would look bad, given the circumstances. He would have been on his phone for some distraction, but he had learned recently how technology helps us to dissociate, and he didn’t want to lead into this get together with that kind of intention.

Thinking of that though reminded him to look around, to listen to what he could, to breathe in the moment. The next few hours would be very important. He needed to be present. If he was to be the man he wanted to be, he needed to tap deep into his authentic self, through all the anxiety that rolled around and through him on the surface.

He was thirsty. He spied the road one more time, looking for the Blue SUV, and, not seeing it, ran back to his car. There were several half bottles of water in the back seat, warmed up by the hot day. He drank some with a grimace. He wished he could go inside the building. There would be cold water there. But no, it wouldn’t be appropriate until they were all together.

Of course, with that thought, he suddenly had to pee. He didn’t feel comfortable going into the building to do that either. Probably psychosomatic, he thought, while looking for a tree or a covering he could use.

‘Oh, hell no,’ he said aloud. ‘Not a chance.’ No, peeing outside here would definitely be inappropriate. He’d just have to hold it until they arrived.

But then the thought was there, and psychosomatic or not, the need to go was adding to the uncomfortable situation he was already in.

He checked the time on his phone. She was 5 minutes late. She was usually late, he reminded himself, when they were together. Still, this seemed personal. It didn’t matter, he told himself. What will be will be. It’s not something he would usually get upset about, but this was important. He needed to see her, and his ex knew how important this meeting was to him. She didn’t have to care, but she should. Situation reversed, there’s no way he would be late.

What if she got into an accident, like a bad one? ‘Alright, calm the fuck down, bud,’ he said to himself aloud. Why did his mind always do that? Catastrophic thinking was such a bitch. He shook the image of the Blue SUV crushed under a truck out of his mind.

Then he breathed. It was important. He had to shed this anxiety, this nervousness. It wouldn’t do at all for creating any kind of connection. He had to be able to tap into that creative part of himself for as long as he could. He had to be able to engage.

But no, he reminded himself. That’s too much pressure. It’s not that he had to do these things. If he believed that, then that would be one more thing getting in the way. He knew at least, that he could let that go. No. He was willing to tap in to his creativity. He was going to do his best to engage, as authentically as possible.

Another breath, this one of relief. The results don’t matter, the intention does. ‘If the intention is to do my best, then I can accept the result,’ he told himself.

But he questioned whether it was true. Flashes of her looking away from him, not wanting to spend time with him, almost looking through him tore away at his heart.

He breathed again. Found that relief he had experienced only moments ago. ‘It’s ok,’ he told himself, ‘No matter how it goes, I will never give up. She means everything to me.’ He was going through the hardest time of his life right now for her, and she was worth it.

He would persevere, regardless of how the next few hours played out. The next few days, the next few weeks. Months. Years.

He didn’t know how long it would take him to find peace again, to be the man he set out to be when he broke up with his ex barely more than a month ago. He would though, for her.

He had a saying he used to use to get through another difficult time in his life. He took a breath and said it aloud to himself now:

‘I have infinite patience when it comes to finding my ideal sense of self.’

He winced a bit and smiled. It was a good saying, but it could be used as an excuse to not take action in creating one’s self, to lie about like he sometimes did when he was feeling particularly rough. ‘That’s ok,’ he thought. It wasn’t meant to be used as an excuse. It was meant to help him not get attached to results.

And thinking that, he took another breath. Then another. Then another. He visualized her smiling at him, and laughing with him. He remembered a time when he was in another place, just like the one he was outside of now, where she saw him from across the room, and made a delighted sound and ran to him. Even if it didn’t happen today, it would happen again. When he looked deep, he found he couldn’t give up his attachment to that particular result. He was ok with that.

His reverie had kept him from watching the road. The Blue SUV was entering the parking lot. His ex gave him a tight lipped smile through the windshield. He smiled and waved back.

As she pulled forward into her parking spot, he was already walking up behind the vehicle, to the back door on the passengers side.

He peered in the tinted window, and there she was, in her car seat, looking about as she always did.

He opened the door. The fresh brightness made her squint, but as her eyes adjusted, his daughter smiled up and reached out for him, and for that moment at least, he only knew happiness and love in his heart.