We have a new tree. Bought it the day before Smooch racked up that medical bill, so I felt really stupid, but it was actually really cheap and I'm glad I didn't take it back.
It's pre-lit with white lights, and the ornaments are all white and silver and blue and pink and gold. There are tiny star ornaments, and a ton of glitter. Glitter everywhere.
It's gorgeous. I always wanted to try a tree in these colors, and I finally get to.
The old tree was too tall for me to handle. It wasn't pre-lit, and it was like 8 feet tall. Putting it together and getting the lights on it and decorating it was definitely going to be too much. I am still tired from the hysterectomy, and Bear has a bad back.
And I'm just as glad for the fresh start, you know? This year has been really great in a lot of ways, but also really terrible, and the reboot feels good and right.
I'm still scared sometimes. What am I doing, inviting another person into my life when I'm so fucking damaged and incapable of maintaining normal function? Am I going to stay with her forever, (or try, anyway)? Is it foolish to want that? Is it okay to be afraid of that at the same time?
But . . . I caught myself just thinking about her face today. Just . . . this one face I've never seen her make toward anyone else, this silly little squinch-and-smile. And I think about her happy laugh, and I think about her "I shouldn't be laughing" laugh, and I think about her "utterly losing it" laugh, and I just . . . want to be here. With her.
So I try to be good enough.
No, maybe that's not right. Because I'm good enough, and while I may not believe that, she does, so I don't have to prove it.
What I do is try to make her feel how much I value her.
I have no idea what I'm doing. Parts of it are hard, occasionally. Frustrating, even. Not often, but it happens. But it's the kind of hard and frustrating that feels like building something, not like getting weighed down, not like smothering.
I want to not fuck this up. Holy god, I want to not fuck it up.