The Noise In My Head

 A friend asked me the other day why I wasn’t blogging much these days. Truth is, I got busy, and then I just didn’t really feel like it. Made me realize I need to get back to it. Mostly because writing helps me process my feelings and the noise in my head. And right now, there’s a lot of both.

So, the busy part? My son Jude graduated from high school at the end of May. I kind of got obsessed with that. Like soccer-mom obsessed. After being on lockdown and then quarantine, virtual school, and then his dad dying, I wanted to make sure his senior year was as close to perfect as possible. I spent prom, his last music performances, the last week of his senior year, and all of the graduation events in tears. All I could see when I looked at him was that little boy that used to jump up and wrap his little arms around my neck and give the biggest kisses.

I even took him on a trip to Boston after graduation to go to the Boston Calling music festival. For a kid that’s never been to a concert, he finally got the full music festival experience. We had the best time ever. We staked out our places out front for both nights of Nine Inch Nails. Run the Jewels. Weezer. Cheap Trick. But stayed in the back for Metallica after Jude got a bad ear infection that I stuffed with an ear plug and later won the award for ‘worst mom ever’ from his doctor. But totally worth it.

We walked all over Boston and ate something amazing at almost every stop. Took the subway everywhere. And talked a lot. Which isn’t always easy with Jude. He reminds me so much of me it hurts sometimes because I know how he’s feeling. Likes to be quiet in his thoughts. Easy going. But when something excites him, he can go on and on and that’s when I stop and enjoy a chance to talk. The rest of the time, we just moved around in silence, enjoying the time together, but respecting each other’s space and not asking questions. I hope we can always do that.

Then I took a trip to Manchester, England, all by myself. I planned the trip after I decided on the spur of the moment to buy Foo Fighters tickets for Old Trafford. I had always wanted to go to a big rock concert at one of those giant stadiums in England and just decided, what the hell? I hit the ‘buy’ button and the concert later sold out in less than five minutes. Obviously, that was canceled, but my family got me tickets to see Red Hot Chili Peppers in Manchester, so I stuck with my plan and boarded the plane in June and set off on my own with a hotel reservation, backpack, passport, and no idea what I was going to do aside from the concert. I hit the concert the first day there and it was just like I imagined it would be.

I spent the rest of the week wandering around the city, eating my weight in pies and cakes, checking out museums, shopping, and people watching. I made a promise to nap every day and stuck to that. It was probably the most self-indulgent thing I’ve ever allowed myself to do and worth every penny. I highly recommend solo vacations if you are brave enough. And if you aren’t, just invite me.

The rest of the summer was spent navigating Veronica’s depression, work problems, and hoping I had enough money saved to pay for Jude’s college. I finally bought the house from Robby and became a solo house owner for the first time in my life. Bought a car that I love to drive. Spent a lot of time with my besties doing cocktail nights and long brunches, and got some good time in with my family.

And then, this week, I ended a relationship with a man I was very much in love with. And that’s the ‘I really didn’t feel like it’ part of not writing much. Because I knew the end was coming, but I just didn’t know how it would end. I kept waiting for him to end things because I knew something was off, but that never happened, and things would be great. He would assure me things were fine and to just enjoy what we had, and I’d ignore that tiny voice in my head saying something was wrong and chalk it up to hormones or being tired. I kept thinking he would get to where I was, but then I finally got the confirmation I needed to know, and he wasn’t. So, I angrily walked away. And that was it. Just like that. Heartbroken.

Break-ups are always hard no matter how old you are, but luckily they get easier with me as I get older and hopefully wiser. I know it hurts a lot at first but if I keep focused on myself and stay busy, then in a few weeks, I’ll be back to my new routines without that feeling that something is missing. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again so the people in the back can hear, it makes no sense to survive traumatic experiences and not learn from them so you can do better as life moves on—and therapy helps, a lot. Because life does move on. Even when you don’t want it to. And you never know what great adventure will happen next so it’s worth it to stick with life and keep moving forward, even when you don’t want to.

It's better to board that plane to a place you’ve never been, all by yourself, than sit at home and wait for life to happen or change. It’s hard. But worth it. I haven’t given up on love or finding someone I can happily spend the rest of my life with, but I’m not going to settle for half-way. It’s all or nothing for me. And to some, that may seem like I want too much. But we all deserve happiness. Even me. Even you. Why waste any more time on crumbs when you can sit at a café by the water in Manchester all by yourself and eat the biggest slice of Victoria sponge cake while reading a great book and listening to the entire Foo Fighter’s Sonic Highways album while people-watching? Yes, I know, oddly specific.

But that can be that moment where you realize life is too short to settle for crumbs. To settle for ‘I do love you and I’m sure I’ll get all-the-way in love with you one day.’ And if I’m honest about the recent breakup, I don’t hate him. I am angry at him, but I feel like people come into your life to get you to that next step and that’s what he did for me. I wish it could have turned into what I thought it could be because we had more in common than anyone I’ve ever dated, but it didn’t, and I’m actually fine with that. You can’t make someone love you. I learned that a long time ago, the hard way.

With the gentle pushing hands of my family and friends, I somehow keep moving forward to this life I know I was meant to live. I don’t know when I’ll get there, but for now, I’ll turn up the music Jude and I shared together, savor the times Veronica feels like spending with me, let my friends and family love on me, and keep taking crazy adventures by myself.

Because the music isn’t over until it’s over and I’m still out front, singing at the top of my lungs, to my favorite bands, with the people I love the most, right by my side. Even with that guy that is somehow no longer on this planet but finds time every day to shout out to me when I least expect it, “Hey, Texas, you’ve got this.”