Missing

I don't miss people. Wait, that sounds cold and distant. I realized this week that I don't let myself miss people. I am sure it is terribly unhealthy. My emotional investment is often proximal in an out-of-sight-out-of-mind type of way. If I don't see you regularly, my mind doesn't allow me to become nostalgic. Now, don't get me wrong, I have my moments, but I think part of me doesn't believe I can handle it.

The times I have allowed myself to really and truly think about it doesn't look pretty. It spirals me into this sobbingly gross sadness that takes a very very long time to overcome. It is especially hard living so far away. I could possibly list every day all the luxuries I miss while living in the middle of nowhere. I could think about how I've only been to Wal-Mart maybe ten times in five years. I could think about how a flight out of Moab costs around $850/person and driving to see anyone of emotional significance would take hours, there are no spontaneous trips home. I could think about the fact that the last time I spent the Holidays with my family was in 2007 before I was married. I could think about not being able to bring my sister ice cream when she had her tonsils out. Or I could think about the fact that two of my coworkers lost someone in their family this week and how soon the next person in my family could die and how long it has been since I have seen them. I could think about my best friends making new friends because we don't live close by. I could think about my daughter not getting to know her cousins the way I got to know mine.

Most days I don't let myself think about those things. It isn't helpful. But I noticed that not thinking about those things gives this inaccurate depiction of what I want. My daughter then doesn't know I have brothers or most of my sisters. I don't talk about my family. I don't get to talk to my family as often as I'd like. My narrative says that by the time she is in bed, so is everyone else on the East Coast. Or that they don't want to hear from me anyway. Or something equally illogical and emotionally skewed.

The reality is... I really do miss people, I just don't know what to do about it.Obviously it's a little exacerbated by the day or the fact that I actually have time to think about anything. Or knowing that all my male cousins (and some female ones) are gathered somewhere playing football right now. Then throw the Iron Bowl (the only football I really ever really miss watching) into the mix this week and the South calls to me stronger than any other time of the year.