And Let Your Poor Heart Break A Little

I've been divorced for five years now. In that time I have totally accepted that my ex-husband is not the man I will spend the rest of my life with. I have learned to accept and even on occasion appreciate him for who he is and the gifts of artistic talent and wonderful strangeness he has bestowed upon our children. I have even had moments of thankfulness that he wandered into my life. Time indeed heals many wounds, not all, but oh so many.

I have discovered in these years of singledom a new and different kind of happiness. It's not the giddy, heartbeat skipping kind of joy that comes from being in love with a special someone. It is instead a calm and steady peace that is born of getting in close and personal with yourself and finding out you are fraught with wonder. That you are in fact in possession of an inordinate amount of intrinsic awesomeness. Yep, that's me wonderfully awesome. It's just simple truth.

This knowledge is pretty satisfying. My little family is also pretty satisfying. The three babies that are masquerading as burgeoning adults are enough to fill up many lifetimes. They amaze me. They fill me with emotion that is always edged with tears. I can't think of them without thinking of the undeserved blessing of being in their lives, of knowing them at all, let alone being their mother. Of course, they also annoy me sometimes, but who isn't annoying sometimes? Besides me, that is.

I usually reside in a state of general satisfaction. I have good friends, a good family, a good brain, a mostly good life. Then something happens, a switch is flipped, the lights go out and I am so, so lonely. I am reminded of that loss.

It's not even about him anymore, its the thing, the relationship, the belonging to and with another person, a person  who is with you, for you, only you. It is such a deep hunger. I feel it in my bones. I want, I want, I want. I need, I need, I need.

It's kind of a dangerous place. This is where that good brain comes in, oh and a strong desire to be the kind of woman my children deserve as mother. I find myself drawn towards what is not mine, what I would love to have and maybe could with just a bit of effort. Bad. Bad. Bad.

Hold steady brain. Keep me moving ahead. Keep me pushing forward. Make me aware once more of the fullness, the goodness, the beauty of my life.