Maybe

Maybe if I was younger

Maybe if I was skinnier

Maybe if I was prettier

Maybe if I was blonde

Maybe if I had big boobs

Maybe if I had thin thighs

Maybe if I had a flat stomach

Maybe if I had no cellulite

Maybe if I cleaned more

Maybe if I cooked more

Maybe if I laughed more

Maybe if I cried more

Maybe if I cared more

Maybe if I made more money

Maybe if I loved more

Maybe if I talked less

Maybe if I complained less

Maybe if I spent less

Maybe if I laughed less

Maybe if I cried less

Maybe if I loved less

Maybe if I cared less

Maybe if I changed all of me

Maybe then…

There are no rules

I love reading.  I love reading a phrase that speaks to me.  I feel like I’m the first person to truly get what the writer was trying to make the reader see, or feel, or experience.  There is a phrase I read recently that I think about all the time.

There are no rules where you dream.

Think about that.  Each time I read it; it means something different to me.  But that’s what words are for, right?  It’s about discovery and learning and growth. It’s about thinking of something in a different way, looking at the world around you in a different way. Maybe the words make you feel a certain way about yourself, your lover, your friend, your world.

There are no rules where you dream.

I can dream about the person I want to be.  I can dream about the person I wish I was.  I can dream about the person I am meant to be.  All different, but so very similar.  

There are no rules where you dream.

I can daydream.  I do daydream.  There are no rules when I daydream.  No one knows I’m doing it.  Daydreaming of living in a different place, living in a different time, living in a different world.

There are no rules where you dream.

Sometimes, dreams take me back to times in my life I don’t want to remember.  But there are no rules.  I have to remember that – there are no rules.  There are no rules that say I have torepeat my past mistakes, re-live my past tragedies, or feel the shame and guilt of those times.  

There are no rules where you dream.

So, tell me.  If there are no rules where you dream, what will you dream?  Where will your dreams take you? 

Remember, there are no rules where you dream.

Just one of those days, again

Some days I think I have my shit together and under control. And then there are days like today, where my shit is all over the place. Thoughts and feeling whirling around my brain like the twister in The Wizard of Oz. Images of important people in my world swirling around my brain evoking emotion after emotion. I can feel the turbulence in my chest. The pressure and force of the feelings is tremendous. I wish I had a magic pill to make it all go away, to make it all okay again. I don’t even need it to all be perfect, just to be okay.

I took a little me time a few weeks ago. I still can’t believe I had the balls to do it, but I did. I left my home and all the cozy comfort it brings me. I was fortunate to have a place to go and feel safe in. Why did I do it? To think, to feel, to cry, to scream. Did it work? I don’t think it did. I have been questioning my marriage and relationship with my husband. I can’t say exactly how long, but long enough. In the past I have tried to explain my feelings to him. I know I already wrote about that.

Communication. Communication is something I need desperately. Any major decision that needed to be made over the last 29 years of our marriage has been made by me. Why? Because there was no discussion. I would ask a question and get an answer of I don’t know. So I just made the decision I felt was best. Now that we are out of the kid stage, now that our lives have calmed down and there is more time to think and talk and make decisions I still get the answer I don’t know. And it makes me crazy. So, I left home the day after my birthday. I sent my husband an email from work telling him I wouldn’t be home that night and where I would be. He knew me leaving was a possibility from previous conversations. Yes, I sent him an email. I have also sent him text messages trying to explain how I feel and why. I do this because it gives him time to process, which I think he needs, but also so I don’t sit across from him staring at him waiting for an answer that never comes. That is the absolute worst.

I went to my safe place on a Monday evening after work. It was hard, incredibly hard. What was I expecting to happen? I don’t know. Isn’t that fucking ironic? What was my hope? That he would call me, text me, come to me (because he knew where I was) – anything to show me he cared and wanted me and that I mattered. I wanted him to fight for me, damnit. Why doesn’t he want to fight for me? Is it just assumed I will always be there, no matter what?

Monday night, I received nothing from him. Tuesday morning, I received nothing from him. Tuesday afternoon, I received nothing from him. Tuesday evening, I received nothing from him. Tuesday night, I was a puddle of tears and I broke. I called him and hung up. He called me back. Hearing his voice was a knife to the heart. Thinking back, I really don’t remember what was said. I was an emotional wreck. But we decided he would come to me Wednesday evening and we would talk.

He came to me. It was painful seeing him. The emotions, memories, feelings. It was overwhelming for me. We decided to go to dinner and have a kind of neutral place to talk. The drive was……..awkward in a sense. I asked a few question, but mostly surface stuff. We got to the restaurant, sat and ate. We talked, I guess. I asked him if he thought we would make it and if he wanted to make it work. He said he did. What else did we talk about? I’m not sure. I don’t think we really did. I think I thought it was more than it really was. We went back to where I was staying. He came in with me. We sat on my bed. I stared at him. I saw love in his eyes. I wanted him to hold me and stay with me. I think we talked, didn’t we? Did I do it again? Did I just let things slip back to the old ways? He didn’t stay. He honestly couldn’t, I knew that. Three dogs at home to take care of and all the other home responsibilities. I just wanted that to be the time he fought for me.

I went home Thursday evening after work. It was strange and weird. Do you go back to the old routines? Do you act like everything is suddenly okay? I think that is what I did. Why? I guess because it’s easy. Does he truly want me or is it the convenience of having someone take care of everything? Has our relationship become a convenience? Were we so busy during those early years of marriage, buying a house, having kids, raising kids, dealing with kid issues, working to pay the bills, that something just faded between us? I don’t know.

Does anyone else play the what if game? What if there is a person out there that would fight for me? What if there is a person out there that would sit down and talk to me? Would someone else find me valuable and beautiful and special? Do we love each other, but aren’t really in love with each other anymore? Does he deserve/want more than I can offer him? Do I deserve/want more than he can offer me? What if we separated or divorced? What does that look like? What happens then? Can I be alone? Can he be alone? How will I feel if he finds someone else? How will he feel if I find someone else? Is it time to find someone else? He knows all my scars and what they are from. Will someone new overlook all my flaws? What about my love handles? What will they think when they feel or see them? What does he think when he sees or feels them? What happens to the house I love; the house that we created together? What happens to the unfinished projects that we are both excited about? What happens to the stuff in the house? What happens to our kids and grandkids? What if he becomes a drunk? What if he doesn’t stay in contact with the kids and grandkids? What happens when there is a holiday or a birthday party? He has no one else. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? What does starting over look like? Why is my heart racing right now? Where do I go from here? How do I know what is right?

I found myself staring at him many times over the weekend. What is happening in his mind? What is he thinking?

To top things off, I also received an incredible job offer. After three or four years of applying and interviewing, I received an offer. It terrifies me. As of June 19, 2021, I will complete 32 years at my current job (please remember I started at the ripe old age of 19). I am 51 and seriously considering switching jobs. Am I fucking insane? Is the universe trying to tell me it’s time for a change? How will I make the right decision? Will I make the right decision? Do I want the stress of a new job? Do I want to feel like I am valuable again or stay where I am comfortable and just a convenience to those around me? Why do I feel like I am being pushed out the door in my current position? Is money and leave time all that matter at this point in my life?

Fuck. It’s just one of those days………………..

Let’s play a game…

Everyone likes games, right? Play the what if game with me. It’s a game my mind likes to play at 2AM when I need sleep. A game that I play as I cry in the shower. A game that makes my heart race and my blood pressure rise. A game that I play everyday, whether I want to or not.

What if – my girl tells me she’s going to point A (a friends) but really goes to point D (drippy dick)? And I have no idea where she is or how to help her if she gets in trouble.

What if – I tell my girl that I feel very little joy in my life, and her disorder is to blame?

What if – I tell my girl I can’t stand being in the house with her?

What if – I tell my girl I feel I am walking on eggshells all the time?

What if – I tell my girl I want my life back?

What if – I tell my girl I’m allowed to feel happy, sometimes?

What if – I tell my girl that my world has to stop revolving around her?

What if – I tell my girl I am becoming sad and depressed, too?

What if – I tell my girl I am not looking forward to a week vacation with her along?

What if – my girl keeps lying?

What if – my girl never knows happiness in her life?

What if – the drug of choice gets stronger and scarier?

What if – I tell my girl she has to decide if she is living here or with drippy?

What if – my girl decides to live with drippy and gets beat, again?

What if – my girl doesn’t go to therapy tomorrow (for the third time in a row)?

What if – my girl continues to cut her arms and now her thighs?

What if – one of those cuts hits just the right spot?

What if – things never change?

What if – I finally unload all this on my girl and all my feelings and thoughts come pouring out of my mouth and I can’t stop them?

What if – my honesty pushes my girl over the edge?

What if – my girl can’t handle my truth?

What if – those are the last words I ever get to say to my girl?

What if, what if, what if, what if?

What if is a fucked up game to play.

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