Dread

Today's 100 words:

People say that the anticipation of an unpleasant event is often worse than the event itself. I agree. I remember when I was a kid and was told I needed to get a shot--the thought of that doctor's office visit filled me with such dread; I would worry about it, think about how much I didn't want to go and how much the shot would hurt. Then when the time came for the injection, it wouldn't be that bad. All the worry was for nothing. In some ways, I'm still like this today: stomach knotting, dreading things for no reason.

Ache

This morning's 100 words:

I woke up this morning with an ache in the pit of my stomach, the kind of pain that comes with the realization that something wonderful will soon be ending. It's an ache that fills me with dread and loneliness and sadness, all premature, yet I feel it weighing so heavily. The suddenness of it all, its imminence, has hit me--slammed into me--and it hurts.

My son starts preschool in the fall, only a few weeks from now, and I'm not ready to let him go. He's always been with me--every moment. I feel lost.

I know that preschool will be good for my son. I know that he'll be happy, that I'll ultimately be glad I sent him, that we'll both adjust. But it's still hard to think about right now...