I’m sick of being sad. I’m sick of feeling lonely. And I’m sick of trying so hard to be hopeful and to happy and to live in the moment and not let myself fall into despair.
I’ve learned to be compassionate with myself. So, I don’t beat myself up so much for feeling negatively. But I do still question my own strength.
Am I just too weak?
I see others who have heartbreak. They move on and they live their lives. And I get it… I don’t know how they’re feeling on the inside and people are great at wearing masks and posting updates on social media that give the illusion of perfection, or at least happiness. But they still walk away from relationships. They live through heartbreak. And I try to cling to love and to relationships.
Is it because I love so deeply and completely? Or is it because I am just too weak and broken?
These are legitimate questions. And I wonder them deep in the darkest rooms of my mind. And I don’t know the answer to them. Maybe they’re all true. And maybe, it’s okay.
Hmmm. That’s the first time I ever thought that maybe it’s okay to be weak. Maybe.
But here’s the thing: I am so sick of being alone. And I am sick of watching a movie and thinking of Wildflower the entire time. I’m sick of hearing a song and thinking of her. I’m sick of closing my eyes and seeing her in front of me with a big smile on her face.
There is a very thin line between being romantic and being delusional. And I don’t think the answer is ever known right away.
So, while we’re on the subject of heartbreak and unhappiness, let’s really play the blues. Shall we?
I hate that my ex was an alcoholic and that she was a horrible mom. I hate that my children have her as a mom. I hate that I made that decision so long ago. And I hate that my 16-year-old is so lost and so mean to me so much of the time. And that he struggles so much. I hate that my entire life has been so stressful and difficult for about a dozen years now. I especially hate that Wildflower was brought into my life and filled my life and my children’s lives with beauty – first as friends and then as so much more. And I really hate that Wildflower told me she loved me and that my children were now her children. I went to bed that night not feeling completely alone for the first time in over 10 years. 10 years! And then 9 days later she was in a horrible accident and the comfort was ripped from me.
I am sick of everything being so complicated. I am sick of the stress and the confusion. I’m sick of being a single parent. And I’m sick of this autoimmune disease taking such a toll on my body.
But mostly, I’m just sick of being lonely.
So there. I played the blues.
And now I feel like I should write a bunch of stuff I’m grateful for. It’s the day after Christmas and I should be filled with peace and love. Right? And I do have so much to be grateful for. But excuse me if I don’t feel like being grateful. I feel like just playing the blues. So, that’s what I’m going to do.
Because you know what? That’s what I feel like doing. And I don’t have to do the good thing or the “right” thing. I don’t know what the “right” thing even is! So how the hell can I do it?
I will keep trying to take the next right step. And I will continue to take care of myself. And I will keep reaching. But who’s to say feeling weak and shitty isn’t reaching? I give myself permission to play the blues. At least for a little while. And I’ll still work out in a little bit and I still did my breathing exercise and I’ll keep trying to move forward. I’ll do my best. And maybe today my best isn’t very good but it’s still my best. So, it’s good enough.
Because maybe it is okay to be weak. Maybe it’s okay to feel weak. I am human. I am me. And maybe being me is a little weak sometimes. And maybe there is strength in knowing I’m weak and still moving forward. Maybe there’s strength in weakness.
And maybe it’s okay to feel lonely when I feel so alone. And maybe it’s okay to love Wildflower so much and to want to see her and talk to her and laugh with her and touch her and just sit next to her. That is love. It’s not delusion It’s love. And maybe deciding if it’s romantic isn’t about outcomes or circumstances. Maybe it just is. Or maybe it just isn’t. Maybe it’s just that.
Life will keep happening. And I will continue to change as it happens. And I know that life can change in a brief moment. And I have faith that it will change. And the blues won’t play forever. And I won’t always feel so lonely or confused or weak. I will live my truth. I will lead with love. No matter what. And life will go on and circumstances will change. And the blues will play sometimes and other times they won’t. And sometimes I won’t even remember that the blues ever played, and other times it will be all I hear. But that is life. And it will always play on.