Vomit of Emotion

I'm arguably the most emotional person known to man. Naturally it is my biggest asset as well as my biggest liability. Perfect. Lately, I've been vomiting emotion all over the place.

My dad once said, "Kendahl & Shane retreat and become silent upon getting upset. You & Taylor blow up and then go on your merry way." 

As a child, my emotional outbursts were frequent, usually in a positive form. As an adult, I quickly learned that public outcry & professional emotional breakdowns were frowned upon. So I figured out how to suppress what I was feeling. Then I got quite good at holding it in.

There are two reasons for me doing this when I do it: a. I'm afraid of what I feel, b. I don't want to feel what I feel so I hope if I bury it far enough, it will go away.

With my recent emotional state, I've been using both reasons to hide from it. But with this particular issue, suppression has quadrupled the anxiety and put major strain on my relationship. No, I'm not into women (not that there is anything wrong with liking the same sex, as I write this during the largest gay pride parade taking place right outside my window). And no I'm not preggo (we've been over this before, aside from the Virgin Mary, sex must occur to conceive and we're refraining from that until marriage). I'm, gasp with embarrassment, homesick. I've lived away from home for a decade and never been homesick. Now, really??!!

But its true. I want to be in Louisville. I want to live in the same neighborhood as my parents, my sisters, and (one mile from) my brother. I want to have the option of seeing my niece & nephew whenever I please. I want to play tennis with my dad weekly, go to lunch with my mom, pick up Taylor from Molly's at 3am because she is freshly 21 and thinks Bardstown Road is the place to be. I want my dog back.

But...because there always is one.

I'm afraid. I'm afraid I will get bored. I'm afraid I won't have friends there. I'm afraid I won't get to travel or caught up in the gossip I so detest about Louisville. I'm afraid it will be a deal breaker for Ryan and he won't marry me if I tell him what I want. Even worse, I'm afraid that he'll quit his job, we'll move home, and he will resent me forever.

So there it is all laid out in cyberspace, vomited on my blog, in hopes of getting my groove back.