It was a much-needed getaway for me. We decided sort of at the last minute to meet up with two of D's friends from his office when we found out they had a trip planned -- they have similar slope preferences (intermediate level runs, groomed, with the occasional trail through the trees and powder). A quick stop at Hotwire revealed a place to stay the night at a very affordable price, so we made our reservations, attached the ski rack to the car, and took off at the crack of dawn Saturday.
Wearing my body out felt good for once. It's funny how exhaustion feels different when you're in control of its degree. I did wish I could take something for the muscle soreness (no anti-inflammatories allowed until after my next blood draw) but I knew what I was in for when I agreed to go. Overall, we had a really terrific time -- time to cut loose and feel light-hearted, even if our limbs felt impossibly heavy at the end of each day.
We didn't have a chance to take many pictures, but take a look at the ones we did get:
It was misting at the top of the mountain because of a heavy cloud sitting over the peak. Water droplets condensed out of the fog and froze to everything, including my hair, which I'd put in two braids to keep it out of the way. The shot above is from just before lunch on Saturday. An interesting effect, no?
And here's a shot at the end of the day.
Still interesting! But also a bit shocking. I had no idea all of that was there.
I think that's how these last few months felt to me yesterday -- small things building up and building up without my realizing they were doing so until I got a picture of it all. A picture of where D and I are. I try to deal with little issues between us as they come so they don't grow into bigger ones, but what about those that continue to haunt us, sticking to us? It seems many things have, and when that realization hit us yesterday, we didn't know how to handle it. We've fought because we've had to readjust to each other and, now we're fighting because that process is revealing those icy ghosts on our shoulders. But we're trying to crack them off.
We had an explosive Monday. I'm glad we had Saturday and Sunday before that to remind us it's not always like Monday was.
6 comments:
Your words could not have come at a better time for me. My life has completely exploded. All the little details...the weight of them has been unbearable.
And I looked at those pictures and smiled. It's so nice to know that somewhere out there, somebody understands.
Isn't it hard readjusting to each other after an absence. When we first moved here Mr FF was away a lot in London and maneuvering around each other upon his return was not easy. You two have been apart for longer than we were so I can imagine the escalation of the problem, compared to ours.
Plus you are in a new house with all the problems that that has. But you love each other and you both know deep down that you want to be with each other. It is just a question of biting one's tongue I guess - easy for me to type, not so easy when it is me with the barbed comment ready to be spouted.
I love the photo of you - you are very pretty; even though not much of your face is visible I can see how pretty you are.
Be strong
x
CT, I love that photo of your braids. The frozen droplets look so cool and beautiful. And your metaphor is so apt. Now, when little things build up, I'm going to be picturing your braids.
I'm sorry you had an explosive Monday. My dear hubby and I have also hit some rocky places, and recently some good friends (who have kids) separated. We hope it will just be temporary, but it kind of freaked us out. Perhaps in a good way. I think it made us realize how scary that would be. Helped us put our own conflict into perspective.
Very glad that you had a good ski trip. I'm impressed by your spontanaeity!
Hugs to you, and hugs to Kitch.
(my verfication word is "rearedge.")
TKW -- hugs. Those details are the worst sometimes, no? I wasn't sure how to write about Monday, if I should write about Monday at all. But your own candor in your writing has made me braver. Thank you for that.
Glad the pictures made you smile. Hoping the weight on your shoulders will lighten soon. Thinking of you.
FF -- I'm so bad at biting my tongue. I think it's more a matter of learning how to use it in ways that don't harm (at least not so much -- baby steps here) and learning to separate that act from the act of suppressing my real feelings. In the culture I grew up in, I was never taught how to separate suppressing speech from suppressing emotion -- I was made to believe the emotions were as unacceptable as the words. So in learning to bite my tongue, I learned self-betrayal. I'm trying to find a way to disentangle the two, to make the act of feeling less inherently dependent upon speaking. Maybe this is why I write :)
As for your comment on the photo, thanks, friend.
GEW -- it's so frightening when other people separate; it does provide perspective. So does just hearing the word in the mouth of the person you love. It's not one to be uttered lightly, not a suggestion that can be tossed out without long-reverberating echoes that come back and continue to come back, reminding you of that first slippery step toward the possibility. We're listening to the echoes, hoping they remain just that -- distant reminders of what was once said, not what will be.
I, of course, hear you on this - and thank you for your lovely email (which I will respond to soon - promise!) - but I'm glad that the weekend helped put Monday in perspective! And I love the snowy braids pic!
No worries, MW! Thinking of you :)
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