I always cry when I have to leave my family (or they have to leave me) after a visit, and I spend the rest of the day depressed and wondering why I live so far away.
When my sister and brother came to visit me a month ago for Easter weekend, I woke up Sunday morning (the day they were leaving) with a heaviness in my heart and a lump in my throat. I had had such a great time and didn’t want them to go even though I knew that they had to. I cried to Ben, “Why do I have to be this way? I wish I could be one of those people who doesn’t get sad about stuff like this!” Ben replied that I didn’t really want that and he comforted me the best that he could.
This past Sunday in Dallas, my cousin Megan began to tear up at the thought of the family leaving at the end of a very fun weekend. Megan and I joke that we are practically the same person because we have so many similar character traits so as soon as I saw her visibly upset about saying goodbye to everyone, I knew it would hit me too. I told her not to cry because she would make me cry and then we’d both be crying, and I was already trying my hardest not to let that happen. Of course I teared up saying goodbye to her while giving her a hug, but looking back I am somewhat glad we are the way that we are. I’m a passionate person and while it hurts at times to care so much, it’s part of what makes me who I am (and Megan who she is). And I like who I am, so without those tears, I’d be a different person, and who knows if I’d like myself.
I guess the point of all this rambling is that I’m proud to be me even though my crazy tendencies drive me nuts sometime!