As strange as it sounds, my blog is my safe place. When I can’t feel comfortable in my own skin, I can feel at home in front a faceless mass of Internet strangers. Maybe it’s easier for me because it’s a very small mass.
This is usually the place where I open myself up – the good, the bad, the selfish, and the indulgent.
And yet I haven’t been honest here. Not lately. Lately there’s been a huge cloud in my life that I haven’t written about. Because it is too personal. Because I don’t want to be judged. Because I don’t want to bore all of my readers into blogline deletion. Because some of you have already heard enough – over and over and over again – and I’m constantly afraid of becoming an obsessively dramatic downer that you have to avoid if you’re going to stay sane yourself. Because I didn’t want to see all of the horrible thoughts in black and white and have to face how wrong I may be.
But I don’t think I can distract myself into discretion anymore. Censoring my outlet seems to be making things worse and I’m left with this strange feeling that I’m not being honest with myself. Or maybe I just need one more freaking place to get it out, in the hopes that it will change something.
March 11th will mark my 7th wedding anniversary. I am fortunate to be married to a wonderful man. He’s generous, and kind, and funny, and in some ways he knows me better than anyone in the world. He would do anything for me if I would just ask.
I know that he loves me the very best he can. And if he could love me better, he would.
And yet lately, I find myself discontent. I find my thoughts consumed with all of the things that he isn’t – things he cannot change because they are fundamental to his personality.
For example… I have always said that we balance each other out. I’m…er… high strung, while he is laid back and even tempered. When I’m flying off the handle, his refusal to follow eventually pulls me back to earth. I’ve always considered this a good thing. Infuriating at times – but definitely a mark in the plus column.
And yet lately, all I can think about is his lack of passion and his inability to get truly emotional about much of anything. I think about the fact that he only cares about the things I tell him to care about, rather than thoughts and ideas and dreams that originate in his own soul.
I think about the fact that while I always get to be in charge – I always have to be in charge.
Saturday night he asked me if there was someone else. I told him there wasn’t. I lied.
While there may not be someone else that I’m actively carrying out some torrid affair with, the idea of someone else haunts me. I’m consumed by the thought that there may be something else out there – something more exciting and daring and passionate. Something, or someone, that takes my breath away. I can close my eyes and feel the way your heart pounds with anticipation when you know something amazing may be about to happen, but you don’t know when…
I want to lose my breath. I want to forget what I should be doing and be engulfed in what I want.
And WHY for the love of GOD am I not feeling that anymore at home?!?!!??!?!!??!?!??!!?! For fuck’s sake I just want this feeling to be gone. I want to go back to my contentedness. I want to push these nagging thoughts so far down that they no longer wake me up in the middle of the night. I need to be able to lie next to my husband without thinking about what else I could want.
I feel like I’m at a crossroads. Go one way and continue to be the kind of woman that I myself can stand to be around. The kind of woman that doesn’t make a big deal out of everything fucking nuance of life. The kind of woman that keeps it together and holds her head up in public. The kind of woman that understands that happiness is a choice, and chooses wisely.
Or… I can become a woman that I can’t stand. A woman that blows up her life over temporary circumstances. The kind of woman that makes life changing decisions over fleeting fancies. The kind of woman that walks away from a good thing, and cannot come up with a single explanation that anyone in the world would understand.
The choice is so freaking obvious. So WHY do I find myself spending my days staring longingly at the road paved with bad intentions, loneliness and eventual heart ache?