Level 2...and crying in public

I moved on to level two today. It was time. The workout wasn't as horrible as I expected it to be but it was still way outside my comfort zone. I didn't do any type of exercise yesterday. It was time for a break, or at least that's what my shins were saying. It was the first day in weeks that I haven't done something.

Yesterday also brought with it a few tears. When we left Russellville on Saturday, I was expecting to feel the sting of leaving Taylor behind and have a good cry, but it didn't come. I was helping Rodney navigate his way out of the city, we were hot and tired, and the need to cry just never hit me. Luckily, for me, my breakdown came during church services yesterday. It's always lovely when your fighting back a meltdown in public.

I was taking notes during class, completely content with no signs of sadness or tears at all. When class was over, I took out my phone and realized that I'd missed a call the night before and had a voicemail. Sometimes it surprises me when I miss a call since my phone is like an extra appendage. Anyway, the voicemail was from my best friend Jill. She's been my friend since we were very little. I stepped outside and listened to the voicemail. It was just a simple, "calling to talk, saw on facebook that Taylor was in Russellville, call me if you want to, love you" message. I was all, "aww, that's so sweet for her to call" and then it hit me. It was something about the sound of her sweet familiar voice, the fact that no matter what changes in my life, I always have Jill. She is a constant. Even if we don't see each other for a whole year (which we just did this past year...silly us) our hearts are always connected and we can just be ourselves with each other.

So, my heart becomes all tender and mushy and sentimental, then we gather in the church building for service and begin to sing "How Great Thou Art". Even with our little congregations melodic limitations, that song always gets me. It was after this song that I had to excuse myself to the ladies room to find a tissue, a paper towel, a blanket, a pacifier, something! I took some deep breaths, pulled it together (sort of) and rejoined my family, 3/4 of it, in the pew. I prayed that we would sing no more heart wrenching hymns, although we could have sang Oh Happy Day and it would have been iffy. Rodney and Kyle kept looking at me with great concern, making it even harder for me to keep it to myself that I had, in fact, been crying. I kept thinking, "why didn't I do this in the car on the way home? I had all that time last night to cry but NOOO, I've got to have my little meltdown at church with all the people".

By the time we got to the sermon, I was feeling a whole lot better and simply immersed myself in the lesson. It was a good one.

My heart is still tender. It probably will be for a while. I kept trying to remember the longest I'd ever gone without seeing Taylor. I don't think it was for more than a week. She called last night and had obviously been crying herself. All this changing is rough. Like the line from Hope Floats, "Beginings are usually scary, endings are usually sad, but it's the middle that counts. You have to remember this when you find yourself at the beginning". I think we are both looking forward to the middle, but I'm sure we are always going to remember this beginning.