Today, unixd0rk is having lunch with his ex, who is in town for a very few days (and who doesn't want to deal with meeting me yet). He's also in a bad mood over life things that have zero to do with me. We even talked today about stuff I've been thinking about -- namely, that unresolved crap from when I was little tends to poke its head up when something happens to trigger it. One of my buttons gets pushed, and suddenly I'm not a grown woman saying goodbye to a man who I know loves me and who I know I will see again in a matter of days, if not hours ... suddenly I'm a six year old girl who's convinced that if he leaves he will never come back, and that sends me into a panic.
Have I talked about being left? Have I talked about when my father walked out on me at a Burger King when I was about eleven, and then called the cops and said I had run away? Or even the time, only a few years ago, when Bob and I had a fight at KMart and he walked home (without telling me he was leaving) and sparked the loudest, most horrible fight we ever had (you know -- the one where the neighbors called and told us to get it together before someone called the cops)?
Ugh. Maybe my abandonment issues are a product of being adopted, lacking that early intimacy. Maybe they come from having a father who would start hitting me and then call the cops when I ran out the door (fun fact: the last time he tried to do this, I was 25 years old. Go ahead, Dad. Tell the cops your 25 year old daughter has run away from home. See how fast they send the men in little white coats for you ...).
Which is funny. I mean, this whole thing is funny because I'm not even feeling all that abandoned today ... just ... Just a feeling that I don't seem to have the words to describe.
Right. So here's what's gonna happen: I'm gonna go swim, and then come back home and sit in the tub and read, and try to remind myself that I am 34, not 4.