Apparently I'm busy
Wanted to make plans with S this week. Dinner, some shopping, hang out. But between my quilting course (almost done! Yay!), an event for work and TM, it's just didn't seem like it would happen. She has her own plans too. It looks like something might work out tonight or tomorrow night which is good.
On the quilt - just about done. Put the borders on in class last night. I'm the only one planning to hand quilt, which really isn't a surprise. It's just easier for me. Something to do while...uh... ok, so it isn't like I have a lot of spare time. I'll take it on the camping trip with the family, I suppose.
What an odd horoscope today. The first line? "Open your heart to the possibility of marriage." Uhhhhh. Where'd that come from? Heck, I did it once and that was...less than fun. I considered it again quite recently, but now I'm not so sure anymore.
I checked out Vegas trips and once again found a great deal at the Bellagio. Told T about it, but she's going to be looking for work again around that time. And with the roof repairs and car repainting it's not like I'll be able to afford it. As it is, I need to find some $$$ to pay for the camping trip in July. It's funny how things just don't end up like you'd think. Being an adult sucks.
Heh, just managed to make something work with S. Dinner and shopping tonight and we'll maybe squeeze in a movie tomorrow night.
But, work is getting busy, so I guess I'd better go get something done.
Surprise!
I still care about my ex husband. I hurt that he's remarrying. Well, ok, this may not be indicative of me caring about him. It could mean that I'm jealous that he's moved on and found someone new. I'm hurt that he might (yes, might) treat her better. I question why he didn't think I deserved better from him.
And I worry that it'll happen again. I'm dealing with him getting remarried. I'm dealing with it badly, but I'm trying to deal with it. Given my lack of life direction, it's hard to see someone so sure of theirs. In a way, he's trying to have the "perfect" life. Wife, etc. It's how he sees his value. Possessions. In a way, he views a wife as a possession as well. Not completely, but let's face it, he didn't see it as a partnership.
I'm also dealing with a relationship that's changing. The honeymoon phase is gone. The more I look at my past and the future, the more frightened I become. I'll eventually get over this bizarre feeling of betrayal. I don't want to have to do it again in the future. Am I predicting a failed relationship? Not really. The possibility of it is enough to make me want to bail.
Am I in too deep already? Heck yeah. It would hurt to know that J went on to marry someone else.
Do I want to be married? I dunno. I made such a failure out of the first one, I don't really feel up to trying it again. In fact, the prospect of living together is frightening enough. It doesn't help that neither of our current residences are optimal for co-habitation. We would drive each other nuts in his house and T would drive us nuts in my house.
There's a part of me ready to flee again. Disappear. Make myself a real hermit. A Finding Forrester-ish, agoraphobic, "I hate the world and all of the people in it so leave me the heck alone" disappearing. A high rise apartment with books, plants and my cats. The anonymity of a city where I know no one.
The gradual fading of my memory from the rest of the world.
Heh, that indicates I think I hold any memory space in the world.
After 10 years with someone who forgot me as easily as he did, why do I deceive myself?
Stifled.
Well, here goes. I seem to be slipping into mid-life crisis mode a few years early. Ok, a lot of years early. I'm not quite ready for the convertible, the young blonde trophy wife and... oh wait. Crap. I'm a girl. I don't get that.
The good news? I also didn't get the biological clock. No ticking going on here whatsoever. No matter how cranky work makes me, the worst weapon I've devised for that is a super soaker. C'mon, it's IT. A super soaker is quite devastating. Oh fine. I downgraded it to a tantrum at my desk and nerf guns. Let's test out the bus theory with a mental breakdown.
The reality is...I'm not happy in my life. Well, I am. I mean, really. I have things pretty damned good for a 31 year old divorced woman. This is where all of my decisions have brought me in the past. I just don't think I completely saw them for what they were or the affect they'd have on where I am today. For some reason, in the grand scheme of things, I thought the decisions I made for myself and where I ended up were mutually exclusive.
Turns out the only mutual exclusivity involved was that between where I WANTED to end up and where my decisions took me. Fine. I get that now. Sure, there are no do overs. I've done the husband, house and pets thing and it didn't work for me. Really didn't work for me. Yet, when that was over, I sought to replace that. Security? Fear? What drove me to try to replicate something that destroyed me?
I went down the path I was supposed to go down. I went to school. I worked. I started RRSPs and bought a house. The house is now a condo run by two cats, but still. It's the responsible thing to do. I'm being an adult. A contributing member of society. I even vote!
Somewhere along the way, my spontenaity was lost. My spirit. Luckily, my humour and giggle survived the trip, but for the most part, I became more stepford wife (ha ha, right) than...well... curling goddess. I don't take risks. I'm boring. Heck, even I find me boring. Predictable.
I'm not living MY life. I'm living some sham that is supposed to be the "adult" way to be. I'm trapped in a cube with a view. The riskiest thing I've done besides divorce is buying red furniture and painting the walls yellow. They'll write books detailing those feats, I'm sure.
Two years ago, I opened my life up to a universe of opportunity. With a little risk, I could take on anything. I shied away from that risk, aside from a brief search for a job out east. I quickly dropped that for all the wrong reasons. I cost myself an opportunity to be who I want to be, not who I'm supposed to be. And even in that, I was maintaining the corporate life. The cubicle, the computer, the bad eyesight and carpal tunnel.
And now I'm doing it again. Sort of. Hiding somewhere safe. Letting the world flow past me. Letting my dreams fade in the passage of time. Pretending they weren't important to me, that all along I understood my role in the grand scheme of things. That my sole purpose was to make sure I could retire comfortably, meanwhile maintaining an outer facade of happy middle-class single woman looking for Mr. Right.
Have I found him? God only knows. Have I found someone I can talk to? Yes. Someone who wants the best for me? You bet. Someone who wants me in his life? Uh huh. But how do we fit in each other's lives? What do I really want my life to be? Do I want him in it? Where does my family fit?
Where do I fit?
Sadly, I have more questions than answers.
