It is not easy being alone.
Being married means you always have someone there. To rely on. To cry too. To laugh with. To roll your eyes at.
I stayed married for that express reason. I am not afraid to admit it. I was being taken care of. In some ways.
And other ways I was not.
The little girl inside of me who drempt of a tall, dark and sexy husband who chased me and kissed me until I giggled....still lived.
Many a night I would stare across the table at my husband.
I would just stare at him. My eyes would slide over his face. And while I didn't hate him. I surely didn't love him.
Not the way I have always wished to love someone.
Butterflies in your tummy and stares off into space.
Smiling in the middle of the day, simply because you remember something that they have said to you the evening before.
A love that you breathe in and radiate out.
Silly little girl, she lives inside of me still.
After my husband left I ran out and bought new sheets and a luxurious bed set.
I flopped back on the bed that night, my hair flew and landed in my face...and I laughed.
I breathed deeply.
And I was alone. After 13 years.
Days fly by. Each one full. From the moment I am dressed in the day until my children are asleep I am going, going, going.
Ahhh but when they sleep. Or are gone for the weekend. I am alone.
At night I drink a cup of coffee on my front porch. Sometimes I lay back and look at the stars.
Friends call and I laugh and smile or murmer and comfort and when I hang up....I am alone again.
I dress up and go out and drink down. I can dance until my feet hurt laugh until my cheeks are sore, but when I walk through the door...I am alone again.
I love it. And I wrinkle my nose at it in the same moment.
I have questioned myself alot.
Was it worth this? Worrying and working so damn hard, every single day?
Was it?
I look to my children and still see smiles and laughter.
Was it worth it to be gone from them, instead of being home when they wake, as they leave and when they return? Always there.
The point is. I divorced my husband for the love of MYSELF. For the belief in something....a dream.. a whisper of it even.
I sound hopelessly romantic. Which is odd for me to even fathom of myself...but there it is.
I am alone. And I'm worth being so. Because in the end, I believe in that kind of Love. I know of it and have seen it.
I've touched it and held it. And I want it.
