It's funny how life works out sometimes. How you don't really realize what you want in life until you have it, or until you reach a point when you don't have it.
Four years ago I was head over heels in love with the man that I thought I was going to marry. The man that I would one day have a child with, a family with. And then life got turned upside down and I realized that he was not the man I had always envisioned him to be. That the man in my dreams every night that was holding my hand while I twirled in a wedding dress, told fantastic tales to my belly each night in preparation for our first child, and cuddled with our son and daughter in an oversized arm chair... just wasn't him anymore. That man was still in my dreams, or some shadow of a man that was never defined enough for me to recognize, but for whom my love for was not only unparalelled but also overwhelming.
It was after this that I began to live life, fully and also on my own terms. I wanted to experience the world, truly experience it. And in doing so I met many other men, many men that entertained me for some specific segment of my journey, for a very specific amount of time. They were there for a specific reason to allow me to continue on this journey. Some of them knew that, others were saddened to realize that this was not something that would be enough for either of us, not then anyway. I was saddened too, each time I realized it was time to move on. I was saddened that none of these men were the man in my dreams either. Not that they were not good enough, or that they lacked something to prove their inherent self worth. It just wasn't right. Well it was right in the cosmic we needed each other for those specific moments in time sense, but not in the sense of destiny. We were not destined for each other, not at that specific point in time. I emphasize this because I would not hesitate to give any of these amazing men a second chance, I just wonder if this is wise considering the damage that showing my interest in them again could inflict. I am not proud of the fact that I broke so many hearts, and I do not intend to rebreak those that have overcome the initial wounds.
What is heartbreaking to me, literally gut-wrenching, is that the man that did not deserve me, that did not end up deserving the family that I dreamt of each night, now has exactly that, without me, and in spite of the fact that it was literally the only reason he ran away from me to begin with. As I type this I realize that it sounds as if I am the jealous exgirlfriend, which maybe on some innate level I am. "He was mine, she can't have him" is the immediate jealous response. This is because he was mine for so long, and still twice as long as her, but also because he was my first love. Maybe I loved a man that never really existed, but some part of him is still hers, and it hurts more than anything that it is something I will never get back. In some small way as much as I want to deny it, attack him for being a black mark on my past, I cannot. Some part of me will always love him. What is stronger than all of this is my jealousy, not of the woman that now has him, but of what he now has. There is an almost feral jealousy of the fact that he has what I want most in my life, and he does not deserve it, nor did he want it. I am jealous of the family that he gets to have even though the man that left me four years ago did not deserve to ever have it.
As scary as it sounds, and as hard as it is for an independent and level-headed master's level counseling student to admit, I want a family more than anything. I want a husband that surprises me with flowers and sleeps safe and sound next to me each night. I want his and hers toiletries again. I want to take turns making dinner, and choosing what to watch on TV. I want to feel life inside of me. I want to bring a life into this world, and know without a doubt that he or she is safe, that our family is whole and happy. I want what I had as a child for far shorter than I would have wished. I don't even remember what family like that felt like.
And as I say all of this, I'm looking to the man that is in my life right now. He makes me laugh. He makes me feel safe. He respects me. He makes me happy in ways that I have not been happy in a long time. The problem is that I am absolutely terrified to trust that he can be the man that I so desperately want in my life, and I know that he is not ready for what I need so badly. Not to say that he couldn't be that man, but that it's just not in the cards yet. Babies scare him, marriage is a joke.
And for me it's the same, on the surfact, with my friends. I couldn't even count on two hands the amount of times I've vowed to never reproduce, but somewhere deep down everytime I take that vow I smile knowing that I'm deceiving my audience.
Unfortunately, my world is standing still, and my feet are anchored fastly to the hull of this ship that is not travelling anywhere near those waters. I have to wonder if I'll ever deserve what I so hope for, what I so dream of. And what I could have done that I did not deserve it before,and still do not deserve it now.
But until the fates do believe I deserve the life I so hope to someday live, I will sail on in uncharted waters with the one that I choose to lay my head next to most nights. I will navigate with only my heart as my compass, and hope to God and also to my lost father, that it only guides me right.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 2, 2012
As I sit here my hands are trembling for reasons that I cannot explain. My breath is catching in my throat and tears are brimming within my eyes. My emotions are clawing for my attention, for my help, but I am at a loss, for words and also for what to do. And so after many recent days of this uncontrollable emotional breakdown of sorts I have crawled back to the only place that has ever made sense to me, even if the words rarely make sense themselves. I'm unsure what I believe I can find here, on this empty page only consisting of a blinking cursor that only seems to mock me after so many futile attempts to explain how it is that I am feeling. I'm unsure that there are even words for this type of feeling. It's almost as if I'm experiencing claustrophobia of the soul... I just feel so trapped within myself, and I cannot get away. I can't get out of this box that I have drawn myself into. There is no getting away from who I have allowed myself to become. That sounds like a bad thing, like I've let my life, and myself, go to hell, but that's the most confusing part of this saga. I like who I am. I like who I have become. I've finally found a place where I am happy with the decisions I make, the people that I choose to surround myself with, and the things that I am doing. Life is not perfect, and a lot has changed lately, but somehow I'm still me. I'm still independent and hard-working and loving. I am still dependable and honest. I've reached a place where where I am and what I'm doing somehow have nothing to do with who I am. I am me regardless of where I am, who I'm with or what I'm doing. But I still feel like I want to run away from me. And unfortunately, I am the only person I cannot get away from. Because every time I run, I'm there. And my soul is beginning to shatter, ever so slowly because I still want to get away. I just need to figure out what it is that I need to get away from.