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Mother's Day sucked. There, I said it. I don't want to sugar coat anything, because I feel like a lot of my day-to-day life is spent making things seem better than they are. I woke up the morning of Mother's Day with a pit in my stomach. Everything felt heavy and sad. I cried the whole time I was in the shower and tried my best to make sure that by the time I went downstairs to see Joe, he wouldn't be able to tell that I had been an emotional mess. We took a drive and went out to lunch. I had joked a few days ago that I was craving a specific restaurant's chicken and I needed it asap. Joe decided to take me to that restaurant for lunch, and of course it was packed. I don't know why, but that triggered something and I burst into tears. Joe apologized for striking a nerve, to which I told him I had been crying off and on all day and he did absolutely nothing wrong. "Today is supposed to be about celebrating and we have nothing to celebrate..." Joe apologized again and I sniveled like a toddler. We ended up going to another restaurant closer to home and we had a really great date. Obviously, the whole time was spent distracting each other from the happiness all around us and we created our own happiness. So, that is the story of Mother's Day.
