Letter on a Balloon

Dear Dad ~

I really miss you.
I wish the bad guy is dead. Because you didn't deserve to.
I love you dad.
I am in karate.
I wish you were back alive.

Why She Watches

You see it all the time in the movies. Usually a woman, sometimes a man, and occasionally a child, but usually a woman. She sits there, in a dark room, curled up into the corner of the couch, perhaps a blanket covering her legs. The remote in hand. You can see flickering of lights around the room to let you know she's watch something on the television. Home movies of someone, perhaps her spouse, a friend, a parent, God forbid a child, that has passed away.

She watches because she misses them. She watches to relive. She watches to remember. She watches so she won't forget.

Why haven't I been able to allow myself to sit quietly, in my darkened living room, curled up in a corner of my couch, with a blanket covering my legs, holding my remote, watching home movies of my late spouse?

Maybe it only happens like that in the movies.... ???

Let's Pretend

Let's pretend, for just a moment, shall we?

The alarm goes off, beeping that insanely annoying EH- EH- EH- EH. I let out a groan, bury my face in the pillow and stick my right arm out to slap the snooze button. Is it morning already? I groan again, before realising there is movement beside me... slowly you wrap your arm around my waist and rolling me over onto my side you pull me into you. And there, wrapped up in your arms, a smile creeps across my lips, and suddenly I'm glad to be awake...

What I know....

You know what the worst part about being me is? Knowing myself better than anyone else… Knowing what I will and will not do.

Other people believe in me. Other people believe that I will make the right choice... And I know; I won’t.

Other people believe that I will let go and move on one day... And I know; I won’t.

Other people think I just need time. And I know; time has nothing to do with it.

Other people think I will walk away when I’m ready; and I know if nothing changes, then no, I won’t.

As long as he keeps feeding me just enough to stay, I’ll never go. I’ll forever be trapped in this land of mediocrity. Of wanting more. Craving more. KNOWING I deserve more. (Oh yes, I know it. I do. I REALLY do.) But I only want it from him.

And I know, if he chooses to keep me here for another 20 years; I will stay. I will stay and constantly hunger for more from him. I will stay and constantly doubt my worth to him. I will stay and secretly tell myself that one day he will see. One day he will realize. One day he will want; ME…

I know me and I know I’ll stay… and hope.

The soldier

There are days when I want to give into it all... Days that I want to be a girl. Days that I want to be weak, and fragile, and vulnerable. Days that I want to curl up at his feet and let him be the man and take care of it all for me.... Days that I want him to hold my world together for 5 minutes so I can breathe.... There are days that I want to love him so deeply and passionately and in ways that to truly understand must be felt first hand. There are days that I am beating on my walls to let me out so I can give, so I can play, so I can be free.... There are days that I WANT to have hope. Days that I WANT to believe it's possible. Days that this girl inside me begs to be fed her dreams......

But there is a soldier that stands guard outside those walls.....

No Worries.... So it seems....

So I got no complaints. No worries. No real troubles on my mind. Life seems pretty good. Don’t get me wrong I have the basic, everyday frustrations; scheduling everything to fit, laundry, cleaning, getting the kiddo fed, karate, homework, etc… But no REAL worries.

And yet…. I know it’s there. Lurking just below the surface. Thick, boiling, goopy, smelly. It’s there. I’ve plunged my arms elbow deep into my very core and cleaned and scooped, and processed so many nasty horrible feelings and it’s taken me a long time to get that all cleared out, and with it gone I feel so light, and breezy, and… happy. But it’s all on the surface…

There’s more… And I can’t seem to reach it. I want to. I’m ready. I’d give anything to tap into this deeper hurt and pain and anger. I know it’s there. I just can’t get to it…

It’s more than my husband being gone. It’s more than the ongoing court process. It’s more than bills, and men, and disabilities. It’s more than work, and friends, and family. It’s more than diseases, and the failing health of loved ones. It’s MORE than anything I’ve faced in the past.

How can I get to it? How can I break through the surface? I’m ready. I’m willing to do the work. I just need to know what it is that I’m working on….

I try to enjoy the light, airy, easy going life but it’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m waiting for the black clouds in the distance to roll in. I’m waiting for the earth to rumble and the volcano to erupt.

I’m enjoying it, but am doing so with caution… The LAST thing I want is to be blissfully skipping along and then without ANY warning to get completely blindsided, and immersed in something I have no idea how to get out of….