Thursday, January 16, 2014

Tomorrow

wondering where I am and what I am doing...for example, these long lonely damn nights, right?  They aren't longer than when John was alive.  But they feel like they last a fucking eternity, no matter what I do.  I drink (sometimes too much, but not all the time), I write, I read (not enough), I watch movies and t.v. shows, chat with friends, sometimes I go to bed early and this is good sometimes...and nothing fills the time well.  Is that my heart that I am trying to fill?  What did I do with the nights when John was alive?  Couldn't have been too much more than what I do now.  But it didn't seem so empty and lost.

I always want to sleep in, but that never happens.  Or I want to get up and not be in a rush, and that never happens either.  I feel like I am always at odds with myself.  I want to go to sleep early every night, but I want to do something on my own- not work and not kids and not pets.  I want the little ones to sleep with me, but I want my space.  I want to try to flirt and date, but not too fast, and not really because I hate dating.  I like caring and having fun.  I want a friend, yet I have connected with many of my real good ones better than ever...none the less, I end every day alone.  The kids are asleep and there is no one...

There probably aren't THAT many more responsibilities I face now that John is gone, but it feels like whatever extra loads I have had to adopt, they are manifold and each one heavier than lead.  I guess part of it is what my daughter said tonight.  We were picking my oldest up from a friend's house and my youngest did NOT want his seatbelt on.  I told him if I drove with him unhooked, I could go to jail.  Not knowing what jail is, he said "yay, jail!"  I told him that would mean I wouldn't be with him and they wouldn't have anyone...my daughter said "Yeah, and you are the only thing we have, keeping us together."  Yes, baby, I am the only thing you have keeping you together.  And I have a lovely powerful sweet patchwork keeping me from fraying till I fall apart, but it is just that:  a patchwork.  I am constantly dealing with the fact that it could very well fall apart at any given point.  We would find a way, we will.  I know we will.  But it isn't just a matter of keeping us all together.  I want to be well, I want to be happy.

Happy.  Funny word, that.  I wondered today if there are people who just kind of have happy lives, mostly.  I figure true, good Buddhists have some version of that maybe, because they expect, embrace, and let pain pass through.  But I know that must take work.  I imagine it is more rare than it might seem.  Just as hard, or harder?  But what about those people that have a decent job that covers their bills, a loving spouse, extra curricular activities...they are happy, right?  I mean, they aren't without pain and stress, but still...I have not yet lived a life where I wasn't worried about bills...now I worry about if we will have money to eat and pay rent.  I have never lived a life where vacations were a given in any way.  I have never lived a life, for any extended period, where I KNEW someone would love me no matter what.  John was pretty damn close, but I always felt he loved his coaching and diving more than me.  We were working on that.

So, the nights are long.  And I wish I knew where I fit in.  I wish I knew how to find my way. I wish I wasn't 40 wishing for someone to be by my side, I wish I wasn't a mother of three needing so much help, wishing for a hand to hold and a man to sleep beside.  But that is where I am, who I am...and I have no clue where to go from here.  Except on to tomorrow.