Return to Me

Six

Thanksgiving is right around the corner and the holidays have officially begun! However, it is also the busy season, which can be pretty stressful for many people and families, and I often feel sorry for those who cannot be with their families during the holidays.

With that being said, the last few days at the cafe have been a busy one, and I'm being completely honest when I say that surprised me. I would have never thought it would be busy at a coffee house during the holidays. I mean, it's coffee.  But I can say I was wrong. I never would've thought about giving someone coffee as a gift, and after hearing the thoughts and ideas of people from around the area, it's not a bad idea.

I just finished my shift--I was thankfully able to work the morning with Liz and get a little more training in--and am now packing my suitcase for a trip back to Seattle. I was able to book at last minute flight a few days ago when Mom called, requesting that Jeremy and I fly in for the weekend. Normally I go over to Jeremy's for Thanksgiving, or at least that's what we've been doing for the past four years, but plans changed, and Mom and Dad promised that they'd fly in for Christmas if we did this.

My stomach has been in knots since the decision was final on flying to Seattle. It will be the first time I've been back in four years. Four fucking years! I didn't plan on ever going back to Seattle; the idea was to stay as far away from Washington as possible and avoid going back under any circumstances. However, my reason for staying away from Seattle, has magically showed up here and has been turning this new life that I made for myself--completely upside down. The thought of facing my past and everything I left behind makes me want to vomit. I had a few times this afternoon that I had to sip on some ice water, or 7up in order to settle my stomach.

"I can't do this. I can't do this!" I say to myself, getting up from my bedroom floor and backing away from my suitcase. Why am I going when I know it will just be trouble if I do?

Our families are neighbor's for Pete's sake! If I go, I'm going to see them in passing and have to face all of the stares. The stares that are grateful I left, and the ones that are hurt--sending daggers my way. And then he might be there. Oh, who am I kidding? Of course he'll be there!

The rooms starts to spin and I'm faced with pure panic. I crouch down to the floor, holding my stomach and try to catch my breath.

Why am I putting myself through such torture? Why am I all of a sudden so terrified? I haven't felt like this since I was 21. I swear I can feel sweat begin to bead my forehead. Pulling myself up, I head for the kitchen and reach for the glass of water I left on the counter top earlier--taking a drink.

I've buried this part of my life so far deep inside me, I had no idea it would have this effect on me after all of these years. But how could it not? I've kept so many secrets from everyone I love, and told lies in order to keep those secrets from ever surfacing. I've dug myself such a deep hole, and only now can I feel it suffocating me.

How am I ever going to get through this weekend?

Sitting at my gate, waiting for my plane to board, has been one of the most nerve-wracking things I have done in a long time. After my small meltdown inside my apartment, I was able to pull myself together long enough to finish packing and go to bed. Only to be up half the night staring at the ceiling. Begging for sleep.

I keep moving my eyes to the clock and my leg bounces up and down like a jack rabbit. Twenty minutes until I can board.

Roughly, I was able to get three or four hours of sleep and upon waking I have consumed three cups of coffee. I can't quite tell anymore if I'm jittery because of my nerves, or if it's from the coffee. But what I do know is that plenty of people have taken the time to stop and stare at me every once in a while, as I bounce up and down and am unable to keep still.