The war of northern aggression

I have just finished watching "Cold Mountain" thanks to Netflix and am now re-enchanted with the idea of true love. My heart is swollen in my chest at the thought of loving someone so deeply again. It's only happened a couple of times for me and for that I am grateful. I am lucky to have had at least those two relationships in my life. It's obvious to me that I mistake my instant chemistry with someone for something more, when it is merely a crush or even worse, lust. This is how I ended up married to a man who thinks the Civil War was not about slavery, and that we "northerners" have been miseducated with our American history.

Someone said to me today , "oh you'll get married again." Her optimism piercing through my facade and warming my soul. It felt good to hear for some reason. Another sentence that struck me was, "he's perfect for you cause he doesn't want to get married". Huh. How interesting.

It is hard to fight back tears when I think of how completely odd and unnatural it is to be a mother and not have my child with me when I am home. These thoughts make me say "I will never get married again". Thoughts derived out of a heartache I fear I will never get used to. A heartache I don't want people to see and try to console me with "I understand". Their intentions are so genuine, but there is no way for them to comprehend how painful this experience is. My child was a gift to me, and I remember feeling so excited at the hospital when he was born over the simple fact that he was mine and I got to take him home and keep him with me. That this joy was not something I would loose, it was not temporary or something I could only enjoy for a moment and then feel jealousy as it was given to someone else. Nope, this little boy was mine. He needed me to survive. Folks, this is true love. Love like I have never felt before.

I have developed some coping skills so far. Traveling for work and training for triathlons. Both are exhausting and rewarding in their own way yet incredibly conniving. I am not sure I do both because I want to, my motives are based out of "have to" or I might sit here and erode away like a sand castle built too close to the water. Time alone without my son is the loneliest time. Let me be clear that a break from a whilrwind toddler is much different. A break is brief and has no legal document stating when you can start and when you can stop being apart from your child. A break is relief. This time apart can not be classified under the same category.

Like I always do, I suck it up. I dust myself off and don the "such is life, keep breathing, things could be worse, etc" speal that keeps my sanity from slipping away from me. I daydream about being married to a man I find incredibly funny, sexy and gentle. One that reads to BOTH me and my son. One that let's me be me and encourages me to be more. One that knows his American history for christ sake!

**picture is of me, my dog and my little son sleeping....a long time ago.