Maybe if I weren’t so aware of my emotions. Or maybe if I had the emotional literacy of a rock. Then it’d be easier to ignore it. I’d have a better chance at pretending it wasn’t there.
But unfortunately, I’m not and I can’t.
I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to better understand my feelings and emotions. Trying to put words to it and know why they’re there. I want to know what’s happening in my heart and how to help it with support of the thoughts in my head.
So, I could already tell that something big was making its way forward.
Cassie said it was time to leave. Time to say our goodbyes because she wanted to get home early. She needed to pack her stuff before she left to go back to San Diego.
That was the first tear falling. Goodbye Cassie.
Then as I made my way around the room, I looked at all my cousins who would soon trickle their way away as well. The Frenchies would leave on Wednesday. Catelyn on Thursday. Then my turn on Saturday.
Goodbye Anne, Joannie, and Alex. Goodbye Cate. Goodbye Chels and Jerica.
This is always the hardest part, and it happens every Christmas.
We’ve all scattered around the country. Some on the east coast, some in Texas, some all over California. But every holiday season, we find our way back home and then spend every possible minute together.
On Monday we did a hike and had dinner. On Tuesday we ate spaghetti and played board games. Today we went shopping. We move in a hoard of at least eight girls. There is no other friend group in my life that is quite like what it feels like to be with my girl cousins.
So that’s why it hurts five times as hard when it’s time to say goodbye and time for me to go home.
Because when I get home there are no girl cousins. When I get home there’s not even Cassie. When I get home there’s not even someone home! It’s literally just me. Me.
I go from two weeks spending every waking moment with someone else. With Anne who won’t stop asking questions even though we just explained the directions to the game. With Chelsie who is asking me a question that I’ll inevitably have to ask her to repeat because I didn’t understand her the first time. With Alex who is trying to make a snarky comment. With Joannie whose eczema is irritating her. With Cassie who is annoyed by me just breathing. With all of these people who I love with every fiber of my being!
And then it’s just me.
So, I can already feel it happening.
The big hole in my heart that aches for someone to be there. The silence that screams at me when I’m all alone at home. The seemingly never-ending sadness that accompanies not being surrounded by people I love.
But that’s not even the worst part.
The worst part is knowing how terrible all of this is going to feel but not having an answer to it year after year after year.
Because moving home is not the answer. Moving back to California to be where my family is- to be closer to them- that’s actually not going to make me feel better. Maybe momentarily, but not in the long run. I’d just start screaming every time I get a tad bit cold.
And skipping Christmas to stay in Hawaii is not the answer either. Because then I’d miss out on fun Christmas traditions and be too caught up in the fear of missing out. I could never do that to myself. I’ve never missed a Crisostomo Christmas Eve.
So I’m stuck.
I’m stuck, and I’m sad. And I’ve set myself up to be even more sad. And I’ll fly home on Saturday, take an Uber from the airport to get home, and sit in my living room all alone just sad.
It’s unavoidable, and it’s happening already.