No fun in Mudville tonight

So. After four months of waiting. After four months of painful guessing, we heard today. E's job that he was hired for in Clackamas won't be able to take him on because their funding was cut. Even though he has interviewed for other jobs since we were told the job might not be funded (which was why we chose not to move until something was finalized), we were still hoping for this job. The perfect job for him, the chance to go back to school for me. A new start. Away from all the crap in this place.

I was surprised that I didn't just go nuts when he told me. I've been wound sooooo tightly, I was sure that I would just start yelling and crying; but I didn't. I told him I was sorry he was missing out on the job and kissed him goodbye as he headed back to work after lunch. I thought I would just wait until Q was in bed for his nap before I let myself whine and carry on.

But when the time came to do it, I just didn't want to. This whole situation has made me a nervous wreck, has destroyed what confidence I had left, and left me more in hate with this town than I was before. The mountains that surround this town make me feel trapped, trapped with only two ways out.

I've held off on so many things thinking that we were going to be gone soon. A part-time job. School. Q's first dentist appointment. A new pediatrician for Q (his just retired). Why get a bunch of things started when we were just going to move???

Now, it just seems like wasted time. All the boxes in the basement that I packed thinking it would have to be done soon, anyway. All that worry. All that anticipation. And nowhere for it to go.

And the choice is....compassion!!!!

Found myself wanting to lash out this week. A friend, a close, close, friend, didn't call me on my birthday. Or send a card. Or come by. Nothing. Nada. The silence was deafening, really.

So, I let it go for a few days and then found myself composing a "Dear Laura" letter in my head. It was going to be short, sweet and to the point: you aren't a good friend, you have become distant, and I don't wanna be your friend (do you hear the whining yet??). It felt good to get the anger out. Even if it was only in my head.

And then I had a thought. This woman watched my child being born. This woman was the one person, during a very difficult time at work, was the only one I could be assured of her loyalty and friendship. This woman and I had laughed, gaffawed, hooted, yelled and cried through so many amazing events. I love her like a sister. Just because my feelings were hurt because she had been neglecting our friendship since we had stopped working together, didn't mean that writing her out of my life was the thing that needed to be done. I had a little epiphany in my head - I needed to reach out to her with love, not with this anger that was due to hurt.

So, in her birthday card she got the most heart-felt letter I could write. I told her I wanted to reconnect, wanted our relationship to be close again.

The next day she called and came over with the card and present she had had on my birthday, but hadn't brought by or sent. We talked for a long time, and after she left, I found a letter to me in my card. It made me cry, and it proved to me, once again, that reacting from the worst part of myself, from pain and hurt, rarely gets me what I want.