Tuesday, November 12, 2013
I feel like a wild creature shoved into a cage two sizes to small. I press against the cold iron and bare my teeth but what good is simmering rage against the strength of my prison? I have caged myself in love and hunger. The perfect prison. While you may rage against its hold and all the indignities of your capture, freedom is just as painful if not more so.
I married a man who I love. Who makes me laugh. Who is capable, when he so chooses, to be as sticky sweet as any RomCom hero. And he is flawed. As all humanity is flawed. He is self-centered, lazy, and defensive. He has an uncertain temper, a shallow stream of romanticism that runs dry more than it flourishes, a spoiled, me me me attitude about life, and a strong refusal to ever accept blame for anything, ever. And I love him.
I love him when he's in a snit and every word that escapes his scowl is rude or hurtful. I love him when he's making a horrible mess and then blaming me for the filth. I love him when he forgets what I've said or isn't listening. I love him. I love him for the unexpected sneak attack kisses. I love him for the goofy sense of humor. I love him for his loyalty. I love him for every random act of kindness. I love him for the beautiful, growly, little beastie he gave me. I love him. I hate him. I can't live without him, but I'd love to shake him until his little pea-sized brain rattled around in his head.
I am trapped.
Talking it out doesn't work and I won't resort to the silent treatment or throwing things. I struggle through day after day, in pain physically and emotionally and the world at large is unaware or simply uncaring.
If I could turn back to dial, would I do any different? Would I change my life? I don't know. I simply don't know.