Sobbing in the shower this morning over having to leave Joe for TEN FREAKING DAYS (to NYC to workshop the Notebook, poor me), I was reminded of the LAST time I sobbed in the shower: he was about a week old, and my hormones were crashing like waves, I felt weak and high. I was frantically washing my hair because I wanted to be done as fast as possible, because I didn’t want to miss any time with him. And I realized that I would never not feel this way again, this feeling of constant missing, I cried because I would never be alone in my head again, because it would never feel enough. Crying more today, I realized it was an extension of this feeling: there is no more Going Somewhere, there is only Going Somewhere With or Without Joe. But I still wouldn’t trade it for anything. My heart has tripled in size. It needs its own seat, it needs its own carry-on, it’s back at home, eating pieces of Grape, slowly growing out of its Pajamas.