I just realized, about two hours ago, that tomorrow is my seventh wedding anniversary. No danger of the 7-year-itch here, nope, that happened at five years, 11 months. Whew, problem averted. Ha. It's funny, funny ha-ha or funny strange, your choice, on how completely different my head space is now vs. one year ago.
A year ago this time, I literally did not want to leave my bed, unless it was to drink a vat of wine or eat fried food. Yep, that was it, carbs and liquor, those were my motivators. I can remember going a number of days without showering or changing clothes; that's super hot, right? I stopped shaving my legs and just sort of gave in to the idea of waking up in the morning and that being my accomplishment for the day.
Flash forward to now: Maybe I'm not all filled in, like a human lasagna, but I'm getting there. It took so many stupid, dumbass decisions for which I completely take credit, for me to pull my over-analytical, over-educated (hopefully, soon to be more so) head out of my stupid ass. My life is not over because of a divorce. My faith in certain things is shaken, and I can't change that, no matter what, but I am still here.
My life is what I choose to make of it. If I want to learn guitar like I've always wanted, by God, I will. I plan to start my Master's in English in the summer. What will I do with it? I don't fucking care. It's what I WANT TO DO. I can do whatever I want, and I should've always been suspect of anyone who didn't agree with that plan. I have cow-towed and bent perpendicular, and been a doormat in the hopes of being happy. You know what? I wasn't.
I know I have depressive issues; believe me, I know. However, I do truly believe that I deserve to be happy and to be appreciated. Yes, I may be an acquired taste. I'm a huge nut. I hate cleaning. I would rather drink wine, read, and watch old episodes of Grey's Anatomy. But, I've never hidden these things. I am at 36 what I was at 6, 16, and 26. I've matured, of course, but I am the same person I have been and will ever be. If I'm right, I will argue you to the death, but on the flip side, if I care about you, I will throw myself in front of oncoming traffic to protect you.
So, tomorrow is my 7th wedding anniversary, and soon after, I will bid my marriage adieu. It was a learning experience that I wish I had when I was in my 20's rather than 30's, but I stand by my steadfast assertion. I don't regret experiences and wish I could take them back. Without those experiences, I wouldn't be me. I kind of like me. Other people seem to agree, and I am free to open up to whatever future I choose. Me. It's my future, and I'm starting to realize what makes this girl happy.
Reawakening
I was on the floor and under the bed and fine with that. The future wasn’t a
thing. It was a vague, shapeless fog with which I wanted nothing to do.
I saw smiling boys with their carnival tricks and smooth, slick words, and it
made me retreat further.
Creativity dies when living in a vacuum. I took up residence in a Hoover Upright
and wanted to stay there. I felt comfortable among the lint and dirt. I was secure
in my lack of worth and knew that I belonged with the other castaway material.
The buttons and old change and I had a party to celebrate our uselessness.
Ruddiness has returned to my cheeks and humor to my life. You may end up being
a figment of my imagination, and that’s okay, too.
The idea of the possibility of someone like you, who revels in my existence is
enough for now.
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