A meltdown and appreciation

Last night I melted down. Like, full-on fell to pieces, collapsed into a puddle, wracked with sobs. I'll start with why I melted down and move on to the appreciation portion of the title.

The Meltdown
After teaching the final class of the semester, I was stuck in my office for an additional two hours, hammering out the last details of the final exams. (Two different types of final exams: the first was the true final exam; the second was the early final exam, given to some students this afternoon.) I had not eaten all day, and now I was trying to make important, thoughtful changes at 5 in the evening. I called Robert on the way out the door, and we agreed that I should go home, eat, collapse for a little while, and then go over to the duplex to hang out with him and Mr. Milton (Robert's dog). Yesterday was too stressful to go to the gym, unfortunately...though, now that I think back on it, it could have had something to do with the fact that I hadn't had a bite to eat until 5:30 p.m. Robert didn't like the idea of me going to the gym either on a completely empty stomach or on a newly full stomach. Both scenarios seemed to end in puking. So, I went straight home, ate some dinner, relaxed for a couple hours, then went over to Robert's. (I stopped by Bruster's to get a couple little cups of ice cream as a treat for the end of the semester and brought them over.)

Our evening started out well enough--I came over, cuddled with Robert on the couch, felt completely at peace, and relaxed while we watched The Simpsons Movie. Maybe it was the comfort of being with Robert that relaxed me enough to actually have the meltdown. It was like my stress-relief valve had been opened. The meltdown occurred after the movie...we were doing okay...until Ms. Amanda started to fall apart. Poor Robert was trying to remind me that the horrible semester was over, but all I needed at that time was just to release all the stress I'd been under (compounded over a five-week period) through tears. He understood that and started to change his plan of attack--more "go ahead and cry" and less "it's okay because it's over." I melted down because of the semester ending, and I melted down (as I always do) because the next semester is right around the corner. This semester is going to test my fortitude in more ways than I can possibly anticipate. Robert will need me to be strong and be someone he can lean on (just as he's been for me lately), and I'm terrified that I'll prove to be chalk rather than granite. I don't want to crumble at the slightest pressure, and I'm scared I will. But I'm going to try very hard to be anticipatory of and responsive to Robert's needs.

Appreciation
I'm consistently and constantly humbled by how Robert understands and responds to my needs. No, he's not always perfect. Who'd want perfect anyway? But even when he's not perfect, he's still willing to listen to me and do the very best he can to provide what I need. I cannot describe how much it means to me to know that I have someone who not only understands that I melt down at the beginning of every semester, but who's also patient through my meltdowns and willing to be there to comfort and reassure me. At one point I sobbed, "I can't believe I do this every semester! This is so stupid!" And Robert sort of chuckled, hugged me, and said, "Baby, then how can you be surprised when it happens every semester?" I cried a little more at that because I felt bad because I was afraid it'd eventually get old and annoying. But now that I replay the remark in my mind, I understand what's behind it. Because I'm consistent in how I respond to stress (tears), then at least I'm not throwing Robert any curve balls. And he's getting increasingly better at knowing how best to respond to my meltdowns. I think the first one I threw at him, he was a little confused...but now he at least expects them to happen. I still don't know how I feel about that little fact. I suppose part of me is embarrassed that my meltdowns can be easily scheduled. But my embarrassment cannot overshadow the appreciation I have for my comforting support system. I needed to be held together last night, and that's precisely what he did.

Can you tell that I'm entirely in love with him?

Everything's going to end up being okay (challenging, but okay) because Robert says so. And I trust him.