Handle with Care

 I am not an emotional person. I was raised by parents that were not touchy-feely. They led us with humor and smarts. Or they led Heather with smarts. I tried. But now, our family in such a major shift, I need mothering. And I have no mother. But I do have Rob. Rob is emotional and utterly in touch with all the feelings brewing in the house at any given moment. So even when I am hiding and crying alone in my closet, he comes in and holds my hand. He sits with me, makes me dinner, and tends the baby so that I can sit and obsessively search for videos of my mom before the free fall. Last night he kept asking if I was alright. Asking if I needed anything. If I did, he would get it. “I'm gonna take care of you, Megan.” 

I am quick to put up walls. To shut down emotion. I locked away that part of myself for a long time. I built up my emotional callous, which sounds disgusting because it is. Imagine where that would have led. Heartless and hateful.


It is painful to lose it, though. But necessary. 


So I don't cry in the closet anymore. I can cry in bed like a normal person. And Rob brings me tea and tells me he is there to wipe away my tears.

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