That’s me. On the outside I’m tough, strong, independent, and swear with the best of sailors. I’m not too worried about getting dirty when it’s necessary, and I can handle myself in most any situation, not to mention being able to wield power tools. I know how to stand up to hooligans and con artists; mostly because of a couple of encounters when I was younger; and even though those encounters were unfortunate, they did teach me exactly how to handle subsequent encounters. When I say I can handle myself I most definitely can.
Apparently this strength is so intense that I often scare off even the ones I’d rather not. I had a good friend from high-school confess years later that he was petrified of me at first. Nathan ran away twice and distanced himself a third time, supposedly because of other’s opinions, but he admitted that there was an element of being afraid of me. Now I’ve scared off another. Oh well, I suppose, if it’s meant to be, he’ll come back like Nathan did.
With that being said, I find myself saying “If only someone would just hold me and tell me it’s all going to be okay”. Nathan has always relied on my strength, and though he holds me, that sentiment hasn’t been his strength. He’s more of the gentle caring, expressing love IS his strength, but his love wouldn’t falter even if the world was crashing down around us. Sometimes I just need to KNOW that my brain has created the apocalypse and really everything is right as rain. That strength of another to say “no really its ok, you can rely on me for now”.
Today might be one of those days. I’ve been finding Sundays rough lately. They are actually my easiest work day, but it’s Sunday, and a lot that goes on involves GOD. I take people to church service, and sit and listen to hymns and sermons. I have gotten to the point that I can see the underlying Truths between my beliefs and others’ beliefs so I no longer take offense to services that at one time would have made me feel like vomiting. However, I find myself torn between feeling connected, and hopeful, but also feeling like I’m still stuck and missing things and people. It’s a difficult dichotomy.
It doesn’t help that my connection to the divine seems to amplify the missing people part. It seems nearly every day I’m getting messages, but for some reason Sunday’s are the worst/most intense. Today, I put on Johnny Cash Pandora Radio for exercise, and every song that played was a love song. The sermon was about gratitude for people in our lives, and I thought of family and friends both present and away, but then I thought of the missing man. Another song played later “You’ve realy got a hold on me”.
My heart burned.
Now I’m sitting writing this as I watch Grumpy Old Men, typing to keep myself awake so I can do my job (keeping an eye on residents). It’s a funny movie ultimately, but having seen it before, I know the sappy sentimental part is on its way. I’m just not sure my heart is up for it today. Every movie that has played at this new job has left me in tears, and I’m just not sure I can handle more tears today. I find myself saying that the sappy sentimental is only okay if there’s something heading into my reality right behind it. I just want the words to be followed by actions, but it’s hard when the words are finding their way into my experience through repeated encounters in my visual and auditory experience, but aren’t actually coming from the people in my life.
Don’t get me wrong, Nathan tells me he loves me A LOT. He explains how much he loves me, but now I see him and the kids roughly 2 days a week. Even then, I spend way too much time up in my head. Even if I was home every day and every night, I’m not sure my brain would acknowledge the sentimental attempts from my family and husband. I think I must have a frayed connection on that one, and I have no idea how to fix it. I only know I wish I could. I want to feel the words they speak again. Yet, more than words I want the actions, the physical manifestations of those words, and for my brain to see and acknowledge them.
I think my problem is I am craving those romanticized moments from movies and novels. I want my night in shining armor to whisk me off my feet and solve all my problems while making mad love to me. Something that I hold out hope still exists, but I’m inching increasingly closer to complete disbelief. It doesn’t help that I’ve come to terms with the fact that I live a very alternative life to many people, have no real traditions, and have very different views than most. I’m not so sure that if my knight did exist, that he would even want to be in my paradigm. I hope my saving grace is my values in helping people and bettering the world.
Of Course, then I find myself thinking maybe there’s a prince and princess out there that would want to rescue me and Nathan both, our whole family. We could be one big happy family in much better circumstances. There’s still hope, which I’m reminded daily by my divine DJ playing “Keep Hope Alive” by Crystal Method.
So I will. Keep hope Alive. As long as I can. Hopefully it is a finite period with a definite end, of which I am just not privy. Only God knows, and I’m doing my best to trust the divine process. Trust and hope… believing would round out faith. May my faith be strong enough to get me through, especially for the rest of this day.