StandStill.

I know. You didn't expect to see me here. I didn't either.

I am sitting in my living room, surrounded by boxes and empty cupboards. There are two girls in my house, going from room to room packing everything up. I am pretty positive that they are both younger than me. I keep feeling as if I should help or do something, but I'm not allowed. Which is not an entirely bad thing. The kids are with a friend, so I am left here by myself, only being utilized as a pointer and the 'final say'. I'm not sad about this.

But I am sad. I was out all morning with the kids, doing loops around the mall with Alex running beside me. We got lunch, ran some errands, and then I dropped them off. I came back to a house that was about halfway packed, one with country music melting out of the stereo that must be getting packed last for this very reason. I ate the lunch that I brought back for Paul and I, then went and sat on my back porch and cried. And really, it's too hot to being such things, but I couldn't stop it.

Paul was worried that I was sad to be leaving, regretting the decision to head back over the pond. I didn't calm his fears right away. I took a moment to examine myself, because I actually did not know why I was crying. But, no, upon further investigation, I'm not sad to be leaving. I am excited for this next leg in our journey. I am excited to take the kids to the parks we were tromping through when we didn't have a clue as to where our life was headed. I am excited for them to meet our friends we had to sadly leave 3 years ago.

I'm not sad at all in fact. The last few months of our lives, Paul and I have been running, full-steam. Things keep happening, which keep us going. Every bad moment, every stressful event, has taken step behind us. We knew they were there, but we kept running. I dealt with what I had to deal with, then forgot about it, letting it tail after me. When I walked into the house today, it was like I stopped running for the first time in such a long time. I stopped and looked around. And because my feet stopped moving, everything that's been building behind me for the past few months slapped me, one by one, in the back of the head. I was crying because of my mental instability in the home stretch of Paul's deployment. I was crying for the short amount of time we had to reconnect before Life shoved us forward. I was crying for Paul's dad. I was crying over the goodbyes I had to say to my family. I was crying over my damn toe onto which I dropped a fillet knife on last night as I was rushing to organize things.

But... not sad tears. Just tears that needed to be shed that I'd been neglecting for a while. I feel lighter with them gone, and it feels nice not being followed anymore. I am sure that for the next few months I'll continue to build more things up behind me as I go, but at least I will be starting with a clean slate.

Ok, really.... I'll see you on the other side. :)