The girl who was once from NYC unintentionally transplanted to the sticky trap of the CT countryside. Teacher, singer, writer. Dancer along the path through the dark.
~May words and music and laughter light the way to kindred spirits, kind of heart~
Also a Mommy. That's the most important thing that's happened along the way, but not what this blog will be about.
Words and music and more brought to you by merisongbird.
Sometimes we stay away not because we no longer care, but because we cared so much.
Fun Fact: I learned to fish in Jamaica when I was eight. My brother and I made fishing poles from sticks and fishing line, and my brother showed me how to put a hook on the end. We killed hermit crabs and used them for bait. We’d sit at the end of the rocks by the ocean and dangle our tempting bait into the water below. Often we would catch some fish and sometimes we would put them in the salt water pool we had at the house we were renting. Sometimes we would just throw them back in the ocean. I wasn’t as into it as I could have been if we weren’t killing the poor little hermit crabs. And I always felt bad for the fish.
I never really developed a taste for fishing of any kind. I don’t fish for attention, fish for compliments, or fish. And when I see people doing whatever they can to lure other people to be near them I can’t help but think of fishing. And some people are so desperate to catch something they want, they lose sight that what they want might not be theirs to catch.
Some days of divorce are easier and some are not. Just like with anything.
Some people fade in and out of your life but constant stars are constant and I love them for that. They pick me up when I am down. They are real and true though they burn so many light years away from me at times. I am thankful. I am grateful. Sometimes hateful, all depending.
At least I know I can always be there for people even though they all might not always be there for me.
The difference between your vision of something, the hope in your heart, the way you had thought, and the reality can be a very hard stretch to cross. And the grief circle keeps coming around.
Sometimes intense anger is like spoken word poetry; like being in a poetry slam. And I wish I had recorded myself, because it came out so perfectly in isolation.
There’s a lot to be said for feeling like for the first time in twenty someodd years my life isn’t defined by another adult. Longer, if you count the relationship with my Mom after my Dad died when I was a teen. And it’s only been recently that I have really begun to let go, and see myself without feeling like without my husband and the long history of what was us, I am less than what and who I want to be. I don’t mean like i was crippled by being married, more that in our particular relationship I was always treated as something of a second class citizen; spoiled sometimes with gifts, but basically it was a tremendously uneven relationship, and the emotional stress was constant. Now my life is defined by my kids, and myself. I’m okay with the fact that my kids are a huge part of the definition of me. I think that’s a given when you become a parent. But relationships shouldn’t work that way where one person wields that much over you, and you feel yourself shrink. Probably the best and most successful marriages/relationships have an equal distribution of give and take and one person is not constantly sacrificing themselves and their own dreams for the other person. But that wasn’t my experience of marriage. I feel sad for how i hurt my husband when I left, but at what point did I need to really feel like I could stand up for myself and say enough; meet me halfway with your whole heart, because that’s what I tried to do for the longest time, even though I knew we were a mismatch in many ways.
I miss him and us and the family of four sometimes, a lot. I mourn what i had hoped for. But I feel good (or better at least) about trying to fly on my own, make a new road for myself. It’s so much easier than being weighted down, since being supported was an almost never in so many ways. I forgot for the longest time what is was to feel light. And missing love and affection for a lifetime is no way to live.
Obviously, I still have a bit of internal dialogue. But I suspect that’s pretty normal when you are a very caring person.