Coffee. Sun. Deck. Kids playing. All lovely happiness things.
It is a morning to be content and happy with no *real* reason for angst. None. No Angst. This is an anti angst zone.
So last night, as I ran and thought, and then wrote – I have choices. I chose to be with a person I can’t fully be with and everything that comes with.
In an attempt to get to the place of either acceptance or change, I have to be brutally honest with myself and how I feel about that. It’s unpleasant. It’s not attractive. I think, I am often okay with things because I know his wife isn’t 100% invested in boy-side. I think (rightly or wrongly) that she is in in for the long haul for reasons that are kind of shitty. So in a way, and this is so very unattractive to admit to myself, I feel like my love has a place because she doesn’t truly love him properly.
Go on, throw your rotten produce at me. I deserve it.
That is a thought that I keep buried from even myself. I was digging up the ugly ones last night. Outting my ugly, bitchy thoughts like shining a flashlight in cockroach inhabited corners, and then hunting them down and trying to squash them. Because I don’t want to lie to myself and I don’t want to feel those petty, jealous things either. I think it is very, very easy to lie to yourself. I’ve done it before, I know what it feels like. The odd niggling bit of unease. That something isn’t quite right – it is an easy feeling to ignore, especially when you have no interest in the less-than-sexy truth.
So. I have come to the conclusion that somehow I think I am a better person than she is. Which is a crock of shit. I may not like her, but that is perspective, not truth. She is surrounded by people who love and admire her. The way I see her is just a glimpse – a twisted view – of who she is. So I need to let go of that unwanted point of view. So where do I look from now? How can I possibly change this? There is a part of me that just wants nothing to do with her. Thinking about her fucks with my inner peace. Makes my eye twitch. A deep, sorrowful, part of me says, “Then, my dear Becca, you have to let go. Don’t be a poison in someone else’s life… especially someone you love. Let him be where he wants to be, and cut out the parts of your life that make you sad. Remember – do no harm. And that means to yourself too.”
So I have choices. As always. Which is wonderful and hard. I love Misty/Boy-side. So fucking much. But in the end (as it has been quoted from everyone from Buddha to Abraham Lincoln on the intergoogle), only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, & how gracefully you let go of things that aren’t meant for you. So simply loving him/her isn’t enough.
For now, I am just going to chose another cup of coffee.