I am here.
In Arizona.
Finally breathing again.
By the time the plane landed, I was far past the point of misery. Almost 10 hours after I should have gotten here, my pain had reached a point where even the Dexter DVDs I had brought with me were not providing the distraction I needed.
In fact, death at Dexter's hands was almost sounding merciful.
I walked towards baggage claim gingerly counting my steps. Thinking my dad was waiting for me on the curb, and wondering if it was possible for me to bleed out before I ever even got there.
And then, I spied him. My daddy waiting for me in the sea of people.
The man is 6'6" - he's kind of hard to miss.
And, I stopped in my tracks and started crying. Right there, in the middle of a crowded airport. Letting loose the tears I had been holding back since this debacle began. Tears which flowed until he was by my side with his arms around me.
And I could breathe again.
A sigh of relief.
Because my dad was there with me. Ready to take care of me.
We got my bag and went straight to Sonic, where I devoured 2 grill cheese sandwiches and the Percocet I had been desperately needing.
The dinner of champions.
And now, I am blogging while soaking in scalding hot water in my dad's giant tub.
I feel like I'm sweating the last 24 hours out, and finally breathing again.
Because I am here.
I am exactly where I belong in this moment.
And my dad is going to take care of me now.
Which it turns out, isn't as awful a prospect as I thought it would be...
In fact, it actually sounds kind of nice.
ADSPACE
