Baggage

We all have emotional baggage.  That shit that weighs us down, that we drag through the years hoping to somehow unburden ourselves of it.  If we're really awful, we force the people around us to carry it for us.  If we're really evolved, we've discovered how to just let it go.  If you're like the rest of us, you pull it all hoping that it doesn't get any heavier.

One particular piece of baggage that I've carried with me involves men and abandonment.  When I was a little girl my dad used to be gone for six months out of the year.  To this day I have no idea how my mom did it, because I'm fairly certain I'm much too insecure to deal with that.

I've always been afraid of being abandoned.  I'd chase my boyfriends with phone calls because I wasn't secure enough to let them contact me.  When they finally would abandon me, I would wonder why I even cared all that much about them in the first place.  Knowing why a thing is broken doesn't do much in terms of fixing it.

He's lightened that load without me even realizing it.  For the first time do I feel free in letting him contact me, secure of his attraction and desire.  How refreshing to let him pursue me at his pace, knowing that he'll be back.  There's a je ne sais quois about his attitude, about how he looks at me, and I just know that I have nothing to worry about.  I'm safe with him.

I savor the sweetness and realize that I think nothing of calling him.  Nothing of a text, an e-mail, a poke on the infamous book of faces.  I relax in that I know he'll be back, and it's delightful.

Granted, I've just been exhausted too, so maybe I took that particular piece of luggage and left it at the last stop.