Disappearing Act

 When I was a kid, I was irrationally afraid of my mother disappearing.

If we were in a store and she walked fifteen steps ahead of me and rounded the end of one aisle to go explore another, I would sit down in the aisle I was in and cry. I would cry like she had just disappeared forever and there was no getting her back.

Now I look back at this behavior and wonder if I knew my future, if it wasn't irrational fear but actually deeply, deeply rational. 

I knew her, and I knew it would happen.

When I was married, when my husband went out with his friends and his texts stopped at 12:30 am and I started panicking, I blamed myself for being ridiculous. 

I told myself he would come back, and the fear of being left was irrational, and it was just maybe based on the fact that my mom took off on our family one weekend day, that she had told me she didn't want to spend the rest of her life being my mom. I told myself my husband would not do that, and I was projecting my young fears of abandonment onto him.

Now I look back at this behavior and wonder if I knew my future, if it wasn't me being insane but actually deeply, deeply sane.

I knew him, and I knew it would happen.

And now this. He has disappeared again. 

I have been anxious about this. Very anxious. I have said "I am afraid you are going to vanish," and he has said "I am not going to vanish, I love you with all my heart. Don't worry so much." And I still worried. But I blamed the fear on my mom for taking off on me and on my husband for hanging himself in the basement and leaving me to care for our kids, and told myself I was being really stupid for being so scared. That the pattern doesn't always repeat itself. 

Now I look back and wonder if I knew, if I knew, if I wasn't being stupid but actually deeply, deeply smart.

I knew him, and I knew it would happen.

It's the disappearing act. I know this magic trick. I know it so fucking well. I hate it.