My Heart Hurts.

I woke up this morning thinking it was Wednesday. Finding out it’s Thursday was the best moment of the week. That’s pretty bad when I was off on Monday, so it’s only a 4-day week. It’s snowy/icy today, so again I had to get my steps by walking circles around the apartment. B came home early; his shop had closed because of the weather. After work I turned on Cold Case Files on Amazon Prime, and I’ve been bingeing it ever since. I’ve seen all of these already, but I just didn’t feel like looking for something new to watch, and I didn’t want to exhaust my limited list of new shows to watch to fill a boredom binge. I’m too distracted to focus on anything new. I’m too distracted to focus on anything.

My heart hurts.

My son had oral surgery this morning. I wasn’t there, because he’s states away and the weather sucks and covid rules and all that. It feels wrong to not be there. My ex has been keeping me updated with texts and pictures all day, but I should BE THERE, damnit! It was routine surgery; he was in and out in a very short time and now he’s home. I should be there to take care of him. It’s my job. And I’m not there to do it. It hurts. I never wanted to be a long-distance mom. I did what I had to do, what was best for him, but it’s never been easy, and days like this are the worst.

I love my son so much, and he has the biggest heart of almost anyone I know. His hugs are the best, because they are all love. They aren’t obligatory expressions of affection. They are all heart. He means every one. He wants everyone to be happy. That’s his goal. If someone is hurt, or hurting, or angry, or scared, he will take it upon himself to make them happy, to cheer them up. People say that autistics aren’t empathetic, but that is so wrong. Autistics are hyper-empathetic. He feels what others are feeling, and he feels it so hard and deep that he is compelled to make it better for both the person feeling it and for himself. You can’t help but love him for that, if nothing else. And I love him for everything else. So to not be there to make HIM feel better, to make HIM happier, is nothing short of painful. I’m his Mommy. I belong there.