April 13th, 2011 | Author: trancejen
“Sorrow drips into your heart
through a pinhole
just like a faucet that leaks
and there is comfort in the sound
but while you remain half empty
or half full
it slowly rises
your love is gonna drown.”
-Death Cab For Cutie
Forgive me for quoting Death Cab For Cutie, but I love that song and find it appropriate.
I joke about having this wild swinging life and schtupping the 21-year-old, and I’m not complaining.
No, I’m not complaining.
Sometimes, though, the sorrow drips in, and I think, “I’m never going to find something real” and I realize just how impossible that would be with the cards I’m holding, and then I look at my life, a long, hard look; and it makes me sad.
Again, I’m not complaining. I don’t hate living here. My mother, for all she gets on my nerves, is my best friend. I will not mind growing old with her. I will not mind taking care of her and my stepdad as they age.
Sometimes I just wish I’d have done the other, too. The married thing.
I did have the chance, more than once. It didn’t work out as planned. Maybe it could have? Maybe my heart was afraid, and maybe I was emotionally immature, and maybe now that I’m finally ready for something like that to come along, maybe it’s too late for me.
And like I said, I am reasonably happy here in the basement with the cats and my kid and my parents. I don’t get much money from Social Security, certainly not enough to strike out on my own, as much as the desire knocks frantically at the walls of my heart. I don’t drive, so there is the constant, nagging matter of transportation, as this city has no public transportation. During a good week I have four or five seizures or less, but during a bad week I have ten seizures or more, so it is important that I’m around people at least some of the time. Necessity dictates that I must be here, and it’s not the worst thing, for the J-Man or for me.
Sometimes, though, I see people my age living and loving and having what could be construed as normal lives, normal coupled lives or normal single lives, and it tweaks at me a little. It threatens my tear ducts to watch.
I want to be one of those people, those people that go to Ikea together and rent movies together and make joint household decisions and share in the child-rearing and drive all over the place and hey, while we’re at it – don’t piss their pants while having seizures.
Sometimes I covet that so badly that I stop breathing for a moment or two. A father for my son. A husband. A license. A home of my own. A family.
These are things that I once believed were a given but somehow slipped between my fingers and landed in the dust.
I am not complaining. I appreciate everything I have, because I really do have a lot. Compared to so many people on disability, I have so much.
Sometimes, though, during days like today and for no reason at all, I feel like my love for those I have is going to drown in sorrow.
I loathe feeling sorry for myself, but I will allow myself the occasional day to wish and to grieve, to think about what could have been and to mourn what was.
<3
I know everyone will say this but I have to say it as well… Don’t give up that little flicker of hope. Life is weird, plainly bizarre and who the hell knows what awesome thing it might throw at ya next. You are totally allowed your days to grieve, don’t let anyone take them away. You need those to appreciate what you do have on this journey. I’ve lost just about everything, and got it all back in spades out of pure dumb luck.
Those days are so difficult. I used to weep at Close-Up commercials when happy, fresh-breathed couple would kiss. I thought it would never happen for me but it did. I’m still amazed and so glad I never settled just to be with someone. Remember, it’s better to be happy alone than miserable together. There’s too much of that already. You can be grateful for what you have and still mourn for what you don’t have-it’s not one or the other. I still sometimes mourn not having a child even though that was never a serious consideration for me. The road not traveled and all that…
You have every right to grieve Jen, and to rejoice. ::many many hugs::
So sad and so beautiful…
Hugs, lady.
This breaks my heart. Just remember that everyone has their cross to bear and nothing is as shiny and perfect as it may seem on the outside. I have a child, husband, housen driver’s license, etc but filed for divorce a year ago. We’re still together and better but it’s a work in progress.
So beautiful and sad. You really should write a novel (or ten).
Someone will find you. <3
I have all that, and I’m not happy. I dwell on my life having no purpose, I’m too shy and reserved, I’m too much this and not enough that, and I don’t feel like things (meaning ME) will ever change. Wish I could give to you all of those “things” that I have–I think you’d enjoy them and appreciate them more than I ever will. I wish good things for you.
there’s nothing wrong with grieving for what could have been, and nothing wrong with wishing things could be different. {{hugs}}
Anything is possible. My sister married a much younger man after her first marriage broke up. She’s never been happier.
Lapintornade is right. Anything is possible – I’m living proof. I had pretty much decided that I was going to be single for the rest of my life, and while that wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped for, I was OK with that. I figured I’d used up all of my chances at love. But the universe threw me a curve-ball. I met my (future) husband – and how unlikely was that, considering we live on different continents? – and now we’re married and I’m living in Scotland. You just never know. If it can happen to me, it can happen to anyone.
Jen dear – I hear ya loud and clear. If only I could come up there and wisk you away for a bit of R and R and of course take you shopping for some killer clothes for your rockin’ bod. In the end you my dear will triumph. I adore you and wish you nothing but peace and contentment wherever it may come from.
Kiss to you sweet lady.
John in Phoenix