I tried a couple of meditaion techniques last night that I guess calmed me down when I started feeling antsy-pants. I’m not going to stress about doing it right/wrong, I’m just going to start out slow and easy. I slept well and didn’t wake up during the night (which is what’s been happening a LOT in the last six months), so that’s the tippity top tiniest piece of progress, but hey…anything’s better than the way I’ve been feeling/acting lately.
I really have been a psycho to live with lately. I’ll be the first to admit. But there are reasons. Lots of ’em. I never thought I’d ever be dealing with some of the issues that have surfaced during the last couple of years. I’ve never been too much of a drama queen (although a lot of times I was too tipsy to know).
I don’t know, guys. I have to keep repeating to myself that life’s too short to be sad/bummed/down/grumpy/angry/ugly/pissy/bitchy/fucked-up and controlling.
So I slept, but see, I woke on the wrong side of the bed.
First thing this morning I showered and sat at the computer to write an entry, but ended up writing an e-mail to my man sleeping peacefully in our bed. I didn’t send it because it was kind of complain-y and bitchy and it was about the kid/ex-wife shit that needs to be worked out (by them, not me). And my blood started BOILING as I wrote it. I felt the stress rise as I typed the selfish words–how THEY are being unfair to ME and why won’t THEY let me be a part of the decision-making because it affects MY life too and why doesn’t HE ever think about MEEEEEEE! [And yes, I know how that sounds. And yes, I AM ashamed and understand that there are two VERY INNOCENT children involved, thank you]
But something inside me told me to shut up and turn my head to the window and look at the sun rising. It was gorgeous! It was blood red and brick-colored and orange-juicy and buttery and silvery-blue and watery-green all at once. So complex, yet so simple and beautiful.
And I asked myself: What matters? What REALLY matters? Why am I fighting so much to KEEP CONTROL??! Why can’t I roll with the punches? Why don’t I try? I have to try.
So I finished my letter and saved it to drafts to be read once more and then deleted. And then I made two cups of coffee, sipped one, and brought one over to my sleeping fiance and set it on the bedside table. And he barely opened his eyes, but then he opened his arms waaaaaaaayyyy up and I curled right up with him and kissed him a million times all over his beautiful bald head and told myself that THIS is what it’s alllllll about. Oh yes. And he made that happy-sleepy laugh that makes me squish inside.
And what a good day its been. And yes, there have been many days like this in our relationship. It’s not unusual. But it’s golden. And blood-red and orange-juicy. Like that simple/complex sunrise.
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