Today is always a day of mixed emotions…I’ll just call it Wednesday because it is now just any other day. Valentine’s Day isn’t a holiday I dislike whether I’m single or not. I like to joke that I hate it when I’m single but I also joke about the pressure of it when I’m not. You know, all jokes. They make everything easier.
You see Valentine’s Day is the day I met the man who would one day be my husband and now my ex. Funny how easy things change. It is also his birthday so it’s a day, once meeting him, that never really belong to me as a romantic one. I thought it unfair for him to have to share it. No big deal. So we’d celebrate him and that’s what we did. Now we still do because I know our children still want to celebrate with him and I help them, like any good parent would. No matter how much I wish could just forgot it and move on. It’s not fair to them. So I help them prepare for their daddy’s birthday. Valentine’s Day.
After meeting my ex, that Valentine’s night, he called me a few days later, and a few after that until we could go out on a date. That date happened on my birthday…so many occasions mixed up in this broken marriage. The one I’m glad I’m not still in and the same one I still wish could have been so much different. I wish he had been so much different. All pipe dreams. You can’t built on lies. Too late.
Sometimes I like to play this game called, you’re the most organized person, where I file things away, pull out my labeler and organize my stuff into sensible smart areas. Everything has its place. Usually days after that game I play games called, you’ve got to be effin kidding me and the classic where the F is my (fill in the blank), usually followed by, I’ve got to go buy more of that craft shit I hid from myself for your school project, grab your shoes and let’s go.
You should try out these fun games one day. Today I’m not playing games because I realize I live easier in disorganized chaos. You know, mom, where’s my bag of Pom Pom balls?
-On the kitchen counter under the big pile of unopened mail and school papers you brought home two weeks ago.
Happy Hallmark Day.
I don’t need your generic, grocery store red roses, and box of gross coconut filled chocolates, single mom – iom 💕
I miss a lot of things about being with someone. There are the obvious ones like the intimacy, the companionship, and having someone to count on but then there’s this one…I miss someone bigger and stronger than I am to make me feel safe, protected. I miss feeling safe. I can’t remember the last time I felt that way. Something so small as seeing car lights flash through my window, waking me up in the middle of the night, make my heart start racing. I live in a safe neighborhood where there isn’t much movement going on outside, on a Monday night after midnight (or actually probably after 10:00pm). So when a car appears to pull up and back out and possibly linger, I feel unprotected. I mean what the hell am I going to do.
I miss being loved.
There is nothing worse than someone thinking they can treat someone else’s child how they see fit. Substitute teachers need to be kind. Not old school bulldogs. I’m sure she’d like to take it back to the old glory days of paddling. I don’t think so. Also school administrators need to assist and /or monitor substitutes to make sure our kids, that we trust them with, are being cared for and taught instead of yelled at and punished. This is 2nd grade people! ADHD boys can’t sit still and be robots. Most kids can’t.
This is my vent for today.
Sometimes there’s a net to fall in…safety. Other times there is not but somehow, some way during those times there is a way. A way to land softly without the help of another. Only relying on yourself and your resourcefulness. When pushed in a corner never accept defeat. Even when terrified.
It doesn’t matter how hard your life has been or might be, someone else’s life is much harder. Reminding myself this daily is what has always helped strengthen me. Realizing there are people out there that would feel blessed to have my life. Even with all the many complications.
Overall, I’ve been lucky. Most of us have but that doesn’t mean what we’ve lived through doesn’t matter. It does. It’s relevant. It’s difficult. What it does mean is in bad/good life experiences lists, my good list always beats my bad. I bet most of ours do.
Life is love, it is connections. It is truths.
Life is worth living.
Sometimes I can’t control myself from saying too much or feeling the need to say everything. Isn’t that funny? I remember being like this as a child. I went over and beyond to get my point across to tell someone how I was feeling. I also care about people with the same too muchness. I’ve eventually found a way to criticize this way about me and think I’ve “too muched” myself out of situations I’ve wanted to be in. The truth is, this is just who I am sometimes. Yes, that’s right, sometimes. I live in extremes. Some of my extreme appears low key and chill because I am that too….am just extremely good at it when that’s where I am.
We’re all so simple and complicated, you know? I’m sure I’ll convince myself playing games creates better outcomes again but like every other time I’ll be wrong. I just want to be and do exactly how I want and that’s just it. I’m tired of trying to change myself to please someone else. I just need to like who I am and let the chips fall into place.
Just like who I am…sounds so easy.