I wonder what my life would be like if I just did what he wanted. If I became the woman he was pushing me to be.
I wonder what life would like right now if I handled the cheating better. Sucked it up and forgave him blindly.
::Cue the fuzzy transition to the alternate universe:: Continue reading “Alternate Universe.”
Lets just visit this topic real quick.
First: I am not a good friend. I am bad at calling and texting back. I like my alone time. I also have a kid. That makes on the fly socializing impossible. I am a scatter brain, I forget and I am flaky as fuck.
Second: I avoid confrontation. So if I sense there is a rumble of dissent, I do this thing I call “The dip”. I dip out. Radio silence.
I don’t have a best friend. Continue reading “Friends.”
Cliches annoy me. They roll too easy off the tongue and involve little thought. But they exist because they are mostly true.
They say that:
Home is where the heart is.
It’s like a stupid sign I would hang in the living room as a decoration. I had certainly bought into that idea without putting thought into. Like, yes my address where I live is also where my family lives. And until the divorce the idea of “Home” was simply a structure with walls and roof. A home was a thing you paint and fill. Something you pay for and something you can sell. Continue reading “Home.”
This is why I hate being me some days.
I will have a mood shift in a minute. And before I know it, I am suppressing tears.
Crying is for extreme emotions right?
Not me. The wind could blow the wrong way and I cry. Continue reading “TICB: I Have No Effing Clue”
I went to the house to help label things to keep and things to junk. The floors need a good cleaning and the walls need a fresh coat of paint but otherwise its a nice simple home.
There was a few times I felt so rigid, stiff and uncomfortable I wanted to crawl out of my body and run away. But I didn’t. Life is hard. Things are hard. Running solves nothing.
But this house isn’t about me. It’s his victory. And I will let him have it. He’s a homeowner and he has a place that is HIS. To do what he wants with it.That’s awesome. I had my turn years ago with that. (And now it’s gone.) Continue reading “The House. His House. Our House?”