I want a tattoo that encompasses my shoulder and upper arm.
I want to go backpacking somewhere. By myself.
I want to go skydiving.
I want to shave my head.
I want to travel. Everywhere.
I want to open a bar.
I want to want something other than motherhood.
I want to write a book.
I want a new beginning.
I need to feel purpose. I need to feel alive.
I want to feel.
My day consisted of coffee and frigid walks in the woods. The chill of the winter air does wonders to clear my head.
With reckless abandon, I have made decisions. I’ve chosen people that will never better my life. I’ve given my love to those who will never love me back. I have walked on the side of the road that the rain always seems to fall.
The biggest mistake that I’ve made is moving forward and not realizing that I have something to lose. Not looking back. We should always glance back. At least one time, for good measure.
You’ll never know when the most important thing in your life is behind you, not in front of you.
Getting through the rough spots, is well, rough. I just had a long talk, with a real friend. Someone who calls me out on my bullshit, someone who tells me when I am being ridiculous. Or, in her words, selfish.
And then I sobbed. Sometimes it takes someone who knows you and knows your bullshit, to really get you to look into the mirror that you’ve been avoiding. There is a reason why we don’t recognize ourselves sometimes. We are trying to become someone or something that we are not. We have this ideal picture of how the world is supposed to be, we watch too many fucking romantic comedies, we listen to the media, and then we act.
Out of character.
Winter gets one thinking. Winter also gets one drinking. Midwestern chill and darkness brings a burden that is heavy and at times impossible to shake.
These grey days linger on, longer. I pour myself two fingers of whiskey. It goes down smooth, but I still catch a slight burn. The burn is what gets me to sit back, run my hands through my hair and pause. I really need a haircut. I actually mutter the words aloud. The soft music that I have playing in the background interrupts my thought, catches my ear and I am able to crack a smile. Rap music. Alone, this amuses me. Amusement is infrequent these days so I take it in. Wistfully, I think of the times before today, when a laugh wasn’t forced.
If I could pinpoint the moment, maybe I would go back and change the circumstance? I push things sometimes. When you push too hard, things do fall. And when things fall, you have the choice to rebuild or not. Rebuilding is not the easier option. How hard do we have to work to make ourselves happy? The concept of waking up each day with gratitude is a novel concept, but… waking every single godforsaken day, constantly reminded that your one dream in life will not be fulfilled? That’s far from feasible. I speak only for myself.
So, like many escapists, I drink. I live in a world that is not reality. My relationships are suffering and are leaning toward superficial, except for a couple true diehards that are refusing to leave my side. I love those fools. My marriage. Sigh. My husband looks at me with pleading eyes. He goes above and beyond to “make” me happy. His desperation makes me feel worse. And, I run in the opposite direction. He is perfect. He is kind. He loves me. He would do anything. He also is a constant reminder of what I am missing. I never pictured this.
Writing these words actually causes me to sweat. I am home alone, nervous. I turn the fireplace off. Feeling ridiculous, I lock the doors. My dog glances at me, curiously. I am sure that he is worried that I am leaving. No worries. Nothing to leave for. Solitude is my forte these days, even if it does draw out the morbid thoughts.
It’s starting to snow.
When you are thirty six years old, you take selfies approximately 36 times, just to get the correct angle. That selfie typically avoids any double or triple chins, forehead creases, crows feet, and any type of dark circles that may appear under the eyes. Please note that this selfie may require extensive editing or cropping. Ultimately, this selfie is going to end in the black and white filter, which is known to be the most flattering to any female. It is forgiving and yet mysterious enough to catch a second glance. The selfie photo is usually posted for self gratification, when one is feeling a tad more down the usual. Perhaps, I need a little boost in self esteem? Selfie.
I will not be throwing my own selfie into the ring for this post.
Sometimes, you just need some beer.
You can keep looking out the window. Or, you can look inside the four walls that contain you.