Falling

Yesterday I got a phone call from my step-mother about my brother. It appears that he has disappeared. He's not returning phone calls or emails. They're trying to decide what to do without ruining the relationship. It's such a complicated dance and I have no idea how to support my family -- as much as I want to. I feel the need to begin with this detail about my life before I continue my post. I mean, the rest is going to be very indulgent. I feel like I'm falling. That's literally what it feels like. I'm not sure what will catch me -- it could be God or my brother or even the Musicman.

After all, you can't really be that grounded when you are making out as much as I have in the past week. It's just not that possible. On Tuesday night, before this phone call arrived, I texted Musicman to ask what he was doing that night. I had a craving for ice cream. He had rehearsal but we were going to try to work around it. It ran late, but he invited me over to his place for ice cream.

I assumed that this meant he was pulling something out of his freezer -- but I went. I didn't care. I drove the 20 minutes to his house. No problem. But, there was nothing in the freezer (well, I'm sure there were but I didn't see it). Musicman made me fresh ice cream with fresh peaches and coconut milk. I could melt. Literally. I could melt. There was a cocktail that accompionied the ice cream. I was determined not to spend the night which meant that I needed not to drink that much -- but I did have a taste. OH. MY. GOD. So, we had a picnic and talked about our days.

And then, our conversation got a little deeper. Musicman is nervous about my history as a motherless daughter. He's dated a series of women that were not over this loss (which I reminded him, you never actually get over). However, it complicated his relationships with them with what he characterized as "darkness." I was asked to explain how this loss affects me on a daily basis. There. I fell -- because I had no idea what to say. How do I explain how this affects me? I can psycho babble about it until I'm blue in the face, but that's not what he wanted to hear. And then, he stopped me. He told me not to answer the question. He didn't want to know. He just needed to ask the question. Of course, I can't stop thinking about this question and I'm still wondering what my answer is. And you know what this made me think yesterday? As I wrestled with this question and thought about my unrealistic fear that I will die at 33, I realized that this boy -- this Musicman -- might just make me the best version of myself. Not because I'm trying to impress him but because somehow he brings out those best parts of who I am. I have no idea how. I've heard people say this before, but I've always thought that they were drunk or daft. And then, here I am. Not so bitter and wondering if I just might be falling.

And I won't tell you about the making out or the hour-long phone call last night before he goes out of town for a week, but know that this is good. It is very good. In that same falling breath, prayers for my family please. Lots and lots of prayers for all of our hearts.