Envy.
Envy has consumed me the past few days.
I am e n v i o u s.
My children have been gone for a long weekend with their father -
AND his girlfriend.
In the 7 years I've lived separately from the person I married, I've rarely had to part with our kids for more then a day or two and never have I had to share them with another woman.
And so I'm full of envy.
I'm envious of any other mother who can look at 4 days of freedom as a good thing.
I puzzle over how I can become the kind of person who might take this not so long break to just go on with her life and maybe live a little, shop a bit, dine out, sleep in, let loose, sit tight, or maybe even have one of those manicures I vaguely recall...
Instead of enjoying freedom, I imprison myself, keep myself occupied with worries and a vivid imagination that I'd like to shut off, but I can't and never could, it's not me...
If I had a dime for every time I've had to remind myself to simply breath deeply these past days, I'd have an awful lot of dimes, enough to call China for hours and hours in a phonebooth from 1974...
Do this;
Walk the hard to walk dog/puppy
Feed and water the horse
Talk with friends
Fix the computer
Edit the jillion photographs I take constantly of my kids and of every single thing we do in our life together.
And inside the photographs I see it, just us. It's her, it's he, it's me.
Inside the photographs I see the truth
I see not what my worries create
I see how much easier it is for me now -
except sometimes.
Sometimes it's hard.
Sometimes it hurts.
Someone could envy my pain -
it's born from this incredible love.
it's born from this incredible love.
Someone could envy my worry -
it grows from the gravest garden of fear, fear of loss.
Someone could envy my little loneliness
which stems from a connection that branches out, up and on and on till it brushes the sky, with roots buried deep in the earth, grounding us always, like an unbreakable promise.
Envy me, my envy...
Envy me my overzealous, sad and jealous state -
it exists in the small world I gladly call home, bitter sweet home - where I'll sadly be waiting happily for you.
