We are totally packed. I have the final shopping list in hand in order to move my son into a dorm on Sunday. As he and I folded clothes and organized things in his bags...I waited. I wanted a breakthrough. I chatted with him and he chatted back - but not a word about what was actually happening.
My best friend asked, "Do you think he even knows what he's feeling?"
No, no I don't. I don't think he has the words or even the capacity to explain what he feels. I have to believe that, because to believe the other side means that he feels nothing. I don't want to believe that.
Hubby tried to talk with him the other day - we always try to sneak it in while we have alone time with him and we're busy. So, over weed pulling DH asked him how he's feeling about his new school. DS2 answered "I don't know". Later DH asked me if he should have pushed. To that I say, "I don't know."
If I had those answers, we probably wouldn't be here.
So, I sit here 36 hours away from taking my son across multiple states and dropping him off for the first six weeks. I'm trying to label my own feelings - which are conflicted. I felt an immense sadness - almost desperation. I just want it to all work out. I want him to want us. I want to want him.
Then I feel a sense of relief - hard core and aching, growing in my chest. The thought tumbling that we won't be fighting anymore...that I'll be allowed to miss him. To rebuild hopes for him, to start dreaming for him again. I'm heartbroken that I haven't done that in a while.
We're all packed...but, I'm not sure if we are actually ready to go...