Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Finding Forty, Day 75; Woman

I've avoided the blog today.   I'm not exactly sure why, but I feel pretty sure it might have something to do with the fact that I have nothing earth shattering or new to say.

Day 1 (again and finally) of no S.  Day whatever of still being me.  The me who doesn't know herself.

I've been thinking about that a lot today.  A knows all about yesterday.  Our relationship is such that I called him from the road, tears streaming down my face and confessed my call to S.  I told him everything we talked about, all the things we said, and he listened.

When I got to our business, which is about 45 minutes north of our house, I pulled over and we went to lunch.   After eating, I didn't want to go home just yet, so we drove around the countryside and talked even more.  We parked and looked where a bridge had been removed from an old road.   We peered over the edge and watched fish swim.

He then drove to where the road goes directly over the water.  He stopped in the middle of the one lane bridge, turned off the Suburban, and we sat and listened to the water flowing.   In the bright sunshine, with the water babbling around us, I felt peace.

As a child, my number one goal was to be pleasing.  I always wanted people to approve, to agree, to like me.  I hated conflict of any kind.

I made the best grades, rarely broke rules, and was the quintessential good girl.

I grew up and married the quintessential good guy.

We fell into our romance and our life together, having little to no experience in any aspect of relationships.  My slate was essentially stark, bare, clean.

Never, as a child, did I lay in bed at night and dream about being stupid.  Never did I say, "When I grow up, I want to be weak and destroyed."   Not once did I think I would do anything as hurtful as have an affair.

And yet I did.   I've been stupid, weak, and I do feel destroyed.  I've been hurtful and am hurt.  But, despite it all, I've been true to me.

I don't plan to live with regrets.  Yes, I am sorry for the pain I've caused A.  Honestly, selfishly, I'm sorry for the pain I've endured.

But I also know that being human means taking on the full array of emotions, life challenges, victories and defeats. 

I think I'd have it no other way.

I also don't make any promises to not be stupid again.  I feel my learning curve is pretty steep and all I can do is my own, personal best.  No one else's.

Yesterday, while driving home, I listened to my iPod.  A song came on that I've had for some time but has somehow never made the shuffle rotation.   It's a song I loved as a little girl, a song that I knew was bigger than I could understand at the time.   Yesterday, it was my song.

I might be stupid and I'm damn sure I'll make mistakes again.  I plan to love with all my heart and live with passion, even if it ends up hurting like hell.  I know no other way.  But to do those things is to be human, to be the woman I want to be.

And I am.

1 comment:

  1. I'd just love to know what the song was, as the link is no longer valid.