My moods have always been very strange. I am not a dramatic person and I do not have extreme, external emotions. I am an introvert and the brunt of everything I feel is very much internalized and processed before you ever see it. I don't jump up and down and get excited. Fits of crying are short lived and rarely loud or snotty. It's a great trick to get me to belly laugh -- although it's one of my favorite things to do. And I rarely get into yelling matches.
But when I get into bad moods, when I get discouraged, it is damn near impossible to fix it. Usually I have to sulk and just allow the bad mood until it passes. Wallow in the feelings of overwhelmed-ness until I have some moment of enlightenment, however small, which lifts me out of the fog.
It's my system. And there's not many people who know what to do for me when I get like that. Must be frustrating.
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All growing up we used to tease Kat's boyfriends about needing a manual to be able to understand her. She'd get upset and we'd all watch these poor boys flounder, only making things worse. Not one of them knew how to interpret her moods, when to speak up or when to shut up. The worst of them would try and touch her hair. Or tell her to hurry.
But for almost ten years now, David's been here.
And I always knew they'd get married. Mostly because I prayed for it and about it more than I'd prayed about or for anything else.
But we were at Starbucks the other night. Almost ten years later. Six months of marriage later. A little baby girl growing later.
And Kat was crying.
I watched as David settled himself into the chair and pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her so she couldn't move. And he said to me, "did you know this how you help Kat stop crying?"
In that moment, I remembered how I'd known. How I'd known he was her husband. So long ago.
Because David didn't just now learn how to do this. I used to have to tell boyfriends all the time, the key to getting Kat "un-upset" was to wrap her up so she couldn't move and hold her just long enough to make the tears go away before she got claustrophobic. There is about a two second window there. A fine art.
But I never had to tell David that. Ever.
He just knew.
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That, by the way, is NOT how you help me get over my bad mood.
Hold me tight like that and I will be thinking of sixteen different ways to make you let me go.
Don't hold my face (unless you're going to kiss me). Don't pat me -- anywhere. Don't tell me to think positively. And especially don't tell me to look at the bright side. Don't tell me I'm beautiful (I stopped believing that a long time ago when it comes out of other women's mouths). And seriously. Don't tell me to be patient. Or remind me of what I already know. Which is that "this won't last", or "I have what it takes", or "it'll be worth it in the end".
I was in one of these moods a few months ago, right after I found out I was pregnant. High emotions, uncertainty, fear, insecurity were all coursing through me and I was freshly dealing with the reactions of some of the people most closely involved in my life.
I walked out of one room, having set my mind on one decision, and walked into the other room. I sat down, for what reason I didn't know, and leaned my head up against his chest. He situated himself and wrapped his massive arm around me and let me lean up against him.
While I cried.
He didn't say anything. He didn't try and reason with me or remind me of what I already knew. He didn't tell me what he thought I should do or ask me how I was feeling.
He just let me lay there and cry.
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I was in another mood similar to that the other day. Overwhelmed and stressed and lonely, my introverted self needed time to process and rest, and yet the thought of being by myself was beginning to be too much. I kind of just wanted to sit in a room with a bunch of people and not say anything. I didn't want to talk to them, look at them, or interact with them. Just didn't want me echoing thoughts to bounce off the walls of my empty apartment.
Tears brimmed that day. Hot and swollen under my eyes and I was almost more irritated with myself for not crying than for wanting to. I am pregnant. Hormonal. I should be crying all the time and damn it if I can't shed a single tear.
It was in that moment I texted Tamera and told her the story about Kat and David. I said, "if I find a man who can comfort me like that, I will marry him."
"Amen", she replied.
I swallowed hard. Remembering.
I wish, truly and deeply, that was all it took to make something work.
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