An adult relationship:
I want to jump of a cliff into everything we could be
but kids and responsibilities
I want to spend every second from this moment on with you
but work and reality.
I want to build home and family with no one else but you
but distance….. but doubt really.
I don’t think I have ever loved so selflessly. Even when I met Dave we rushed in (98% because of me) There was virtually nothing holding us from diving in and finding out. My love then was not selfless. Although I loved him to a fault I criticized and mentally abandoned him. I wanted home, family, stability, all the things we had both been searching for since the first sober breath. Things that once seemed like something out of a book only.
I am so grateful he was my husband. I wouldn’t trade it for ANYONE else in the world, I just wish I could have been more of a wife. A sprinkle of who I found through losing him. Would he even understand? I wonder often if he would even like the woman I have become. I want to make him proud. I want to feel true happiness, to give my children a tried and true landing pad that stays consistent throughout the years.
Dating as a widow is such a head game. I am desperately trying to make up for past indiscretions. As much as I say I am just having fun I know that truly I am hurting myself minute after minute searching for pieces of him. Not even just him. I am searching for something concrete and unwavering. Knowing fully that I am always looking for a husband. For all the things once promised to me. That’s not fair to the other person. To say I want fun but mean I want more. I don’t feel guilt that I want commitment again but I realize that in searching for it I create spaces where it cannot be found. Or maybe where my head will twist and destroy it if it is there. Ugh! Can I just be “normal”?
I often wonder why I had to lose Dave to find me. Such a cruel trick the universe doled out like a Sunday ad in a ripped bag. Throwing it across my front lawn with pieces flying here and there. Cold and nonchalant. Just here you go. I didn’t know it would hurt like this when I first found the destruction in my bubble.
I was going to say February is difficult but that’s not true.
September is difficult
May is difficult
Wednesday is difficult
Basically every day in every way is difficult.
Sometimes breathing is difficult.
Smog.
The smog of grief is heavy in my lungs.
Most of the time I am not observing my surroundings and taking precautions for the hazards within an arms reach.
Whether personally or in work.
How do I feel so bogged down in my head and yet I still smile and laugh on the outside.
Why can’t I just have fun?
Without all the bullshit my own mind creates?
I fell for this new one and now I am vulnerable…..
Breathing new life into old insecurities.
A cruel trick I have done all on my own.
Yet he has done nothing and still I doubt.
I am supposed to be stronger than my fears.
Unfortunately for every fear I face three more resurface.
“If I would have known what it feels to be yours then I would have known what I’ve been living for” -Sleeping at last
The Optimistic Widow 