It's just a matter of time until we're all found out

There are roses in bloom everywhere when I am out running. The rose scented air--it makes me want to stop. It makes me want to sit down beside them and inhale the sweet perfumed scent until I've had my fill. I think there are some things you cannot get enough of and I think the scent of roses is one of them.

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My son will soon be coming home for the summer. Every time I speak to him, he tells me that he misses home and can't wait to get back to us. I try not to think about all the ways in which life changes for me and all the ways in which life stays the same. I try not to think about the chaos that will inevitably reign supreme here once everyone is home again. I tell myself that I am home to someone. I tell myself that I am someone's home.

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I used to live by the ocean and miss it every day. I want to sit in front of the ocean again and listen to the waves crash one after another forever. I want to dig my feet into the cool, white sand that feels like a kiss. I want to search for shells. I feel like I belong there. I never feel like I belong anywhere.

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There's a courthouse in the center of town that holds weddings on the weekends. Each time I pass by, I am tempted to shout out to the couple that happily ever after is a lie. No one tells the truth about marriage, or maybe it's that when love is so new, the truth of love being lost, or love becoming less intense, or love simply dying cannot be imagined. You must live it to learn it, and so I keep my mouth shut and drive silently by. Who am I to begrudge them one blissfully ignorant day where love is the answer to everything?

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I have secrets about me that I have never told anyone. I think my secrets say more about me than the things I'm willing to share.

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I like the icing better than the cake.

The hard work of staying positive

I have to work really, really hard to remain positive. I have these tapes in my head that play over and over again when life threatens to bring me down. I tell myself I can do anything. I tell myself I am good enough. I tell myself that I am willing to do most anything to avoid failure. I talk and talk and talk to myself inside my own head and amazingly, it keeps me grounded and keeps me on the path of positivity. But I will not say that it is ever easy because it's not. It takes constant vigilance on my part because it seems like there's always something or someone wanting to rain on my parade. I get sick of those people and those things that want to bring me down. I want to tell them to fuck off and leave me alone.

One of my biggest secrets is that I sometimes dream of packing a bag, getting in my car and driving away forever from everyone. My family does not know this about me--that I could leave and never look back. I can imagine cutting the strings that tether me to a life that is at times so tediously mundane and unsatisfying...and drifting far away. I never know if it's braver to stay or to leave because I always choose to stay. I think staying is safer. I think leaving requires a courage I'm not sure I possess.

I don't like when I am feeling a certain way, and I express those feelings, how I inevitably get told that I'm over reacting or over analyzing or over dramatizing things. It's like I can't tell the people I live with what is in my heart and trust them to hear what I am saying. They want to hold up a stop sign when what is reflected back to them isn't something they want to see. I feel forced to own my feelings and keep them locked inside or else risk being told that what I am feeling can't possibly be what I am feeling. I don't know what more to say except that it sucks. I'm not asking for the world or even for other people to agree with me. I just want someone to tell me that they hear me without also needing to negate those feelings in such a way that I'm left wondering why I even bothered to speak at all.

So the work to stay positive is never ending here. I can physically feel the pull downward and have to find somewhere or something to hold onto so that I am not tempted to drop down into a pit of despair. So I keep telling myself to hang in there. I put on my tennis shoes and blast music in my ears and I run as if I am going somewhere other than in circles.

I never give up.

I go on.