Don’t Tell Me Where The Road Ends, ‘Cause I Don’t Want To Know
Do you ever feel like your life would have a chance to be normal and aspire to be perfect for you, if other people could just stop fucking it all up for you? I’m not saying that I’m not responsible for things that have happened in my life. Ultimately, I’m my own master, and for the most part, despite what other people do, I should have primary control over it. But I’ve found that historically, the times my life has changed, most of them were because of decisions made by other people around me, that have had their butterfly effect on my life. Part of me feels vindicated in knowing that I am about to have a butterfly effect of my own. I’m currently equally effected by my choices as I am by others’. I’m on the verge of the next big life shift… gulping in nervous breaths, bracing for the change to come. I just can’t keep reaching out, grasping for some hope and reason, and coming back with fistfulls of air. I need solid people beside me, not people who can only offer me handfulls of dust. I worry that these patterns, this behavior from people in my life, will continue on into the future I am building, and I don’t want any part of that, any participation in it. I’m fast becoming someone who can literally cut those elements (even if they have to be people) out of my life in order to save it.
Does that make me someone worth wanting to be? Right now I have this amazing escape hatch just inches away, it seems, and I’m tempted more than ever to take it. But somehow I feel turning blindly, completely, would be the wrong thing.
Today I saw a pregnant woman in line as I was leaving work. All I could think was "God, I hope you know how very lucky you are… to carry your child inside, feel it grow inside you, give birth to it… to have a child at all…" My heart is scared. It will be the worst day, when I discover that I cannot have babies. As much as I have all the hope and desire in the world… something inside me is sure that I can’t. At least one reader will tell me that even if I can, I shouldn’t. I would feel an overwhelming urge to tell this person that they could not possibly know my pain, having birthed 5 children of her own. In that way, I suppose that I’m lucky that my life has gone this way, in terms of romantic relationships. I could not have robbed my ex of his ability to become a Father, if things had been different. I’m still not sure I could rob John of the ability to have another child, if he wanted one.
In other news, I’m currently reading all of Stephenie Meyers’ Twilight series books. I’m on New Moon (book 2) and thoroughly obsessed, already. I’m dying to see the movie– absolutely dying.