Right now, I'm sitting on the, well, we'll call it a balcony of my hotel room and listening to the Atlantic fall on the sand again and again. There's enough of a breeze that it's sort of chilly in a way that simultaneously makes me want to go inside and want to sit here shivering just to feel alive. It could be that I'm tired - I was up til 2 a.m. working on our project and then up at 6:45 to get back to it - but I find myself staring into the inky darkness and thinking harder than I want to...
* About working too much. There was the trip to Orlando. And then another to Atlanta after that. I left yesterday morning to be on J.I. now. I'm headed back tomorrow, and then early Wednesday, I'll get up and head to Atlanta. And it's good...I'm proud of myself. But I wonder, what about everything else?
* I'm on this trip with two guys who have kids, and they're always talking about their kids. And I have nothing. I mean, I tell my Dillon stories like a good auntie and laughingly interject something about Kudzu, but sometimes, it just feels empty.
* I feel sad about The Professor and his ex. I feel sorry for her. And I feel sorry for me. It's just a weird place to be in for both of us - me and this girl I don't even know. I feel like she's having to go through the place I just was, and I'm looking at the situation, and thinking, "I'm glad that's not me."
* There's a quiet right now - besides the constancy of the ocean - that makes me feel so solitary. I can't hear anyone else talking, no signs of life. The quiet is almost eerie, and far more lonely than soothing.
* Lately, I've been thinking a lot about how we all think that happily ever after will happen to us. But the truth is, there are so many people who don't have it. For every happily-ever-after is an also-ran. I'm not condemning myself as an also ran yet - and this really isn't the part where I want everyone to tell me that my day will come. This is the part where I face the reality that you don't get everything. And I have stellar friends and a fabulous family life and a good career...and lots of wonderful things. I spend entirely too much time thinking about the missing pieces...especially in light of the fact that maybe - just maybe - they were never meant to be part of the whole.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Tumbled Thoughts from the Shoreline
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9 cat calls:
There's just something about the rhythm of the ocean is there?
Oh, and I'm pretty damn sure that you were meant to have those pieces, whatever they may be.
Ah, the ocean. I can hear it.
I always feel a little boring/bored when the talk is JUST about the kids, like we're missing out on the rest of life. It's all about balance, I suppose.
I think Happily Ever After can exist for more of us if we redefine what it means...
"inky darkness" = fabulous! So powerful, it coats you.
I was going to say something about redefining what Happiness is, too.
And there's got to be TV, too, right, Pen?
i'm right there with you ash.
Do I have to take all of your romance novels away? We can't all be Edward and Bella.
Your life will unfold in its own way. When it's the right time for you. And it will be wonderful.
Let's have a Pity Party! I'll bring drinks. I'm the oldest which makes me the biggest loser.
From the cynical side of the block, I don't believe in "happily ever after." Like even those people who seem to have it all...they don't. They struggle. They wish some things were different. Or it all comes crashing down at some point.
I think we only get happy moments, happy periods, and we have to be there, exist in them, relish those nuggets and not perpetually wait for our life to start or be this way or that. (Is this just another way of saying "redefine happiness?")
But yeah, I totally know what you mean (not about the kid thing, but I'm desperate to live in a new place, to have geographically near friends again and things to do and places to go besides Wal-Mart).
Yes...I can redefine what happily ever after is. And that may mean saying that I have a wonderful family, amazing friends, and a fulfilling career. And that may have to be enough. I am happy. I really am.
But I'm also lonely. And I have to accept that I may just have to learn to cope with it.
Bring the drinks, Kurt. I'm working myself up over here. I'll get us a cheeseball and some tiny sausages on toothpicks. M, you in?
i love sausage on toothpicks with that sauce. so good. i've bellied up and on my 3rd drink. i do -not-know what you're waiting for. i'm IN!
although i don't know if it's so much a pity party as it's called realistically yours. or a truth telling celebration. which-ev.
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