Bittersweet

Taking advantage of his son's absence (spring break visit with Mom), J~ planned to leave work early yesterday, drive two hours, spend the night with me, then turn around again early this morning to drive back. I tried to discourage him from coming. "Are you sure you want to do this?" I queried, more than once. "You need the down time. You need the sleep." His answer was monosyllabic and unequivocal: "Yes."

Truth be told, as much as I doubted it was a good idea for him, I also worried that it wasn't a good idea for me. Between divorce chores and household chores and work for a new and demanding client (by the way, dear readers, I am also a freelance designer and illustrator), I've been struggling to keep up with all the items on my own "To Do" list. In fact, I've been getting downright cranky.

But the anticipation of a visit was not unpleasant, and perhaps also useful, because I raced around and got a lot done yesterday. By the time J~ arrived, I was in good spirits and ready to receive him with open arms. Speaking of which, damn if me and that man don't have some mighty fine chemistry going on. But I digress.

So, on the heels of that surprisingly pleasing tryst (which also included a good talk, a long walk, and a sushi dinner), I found myself planning a reciprocal visit tonight. I had my bags half packed and my dinner half eaten when I realized I felt overwhelmed and panicky and needed to lay down on the floor and practice deep breathing. When I get frantic like that, I forget to breathe at all.

J~ called while I was lying there. We talked for a long time, mostly about recent dramas with our exes, concluding that it made sense for me to stay at home tonight. He needs the sleep. I need the oxygen.

It's a first for us, this mature display of restraint. It feels good, but also sad, acknowledging our limits. These limits are flexible, however, and we'll keep pushing forward into a time when we're more together than apart. But for now this is where we're at. Bittersweet.