|Richard Luczkow image|
I've always loved
Somehow I've managed to mess everything up. Thanks to my emotional awkwardness, I get classified as unfriendly or distant when I'm often really just not sure what the other person's expectations are. Thanks to my excessively dysfunctional upbringing (great for colorful stories but a lot less fun to live through) I manage to come across as defensive, which is not great for facilitating relationships of any kind. Thanks to my poor judgement, I married a man who didn't want to be a husband, a man who just wanted to play house for a while. Thanks to a few health hiccups, kids are also off the table. And as easily as that - every dream, every wish I ever had is crumbled into dust.
In my head, I hear people saying - "But you could learn any of the emotional stuff." You can't. I'm here to tell you that. The best you can hope for is people who accept you for who you are and love you despite that. I'm not particularly adept at finding those people. I'm aces at finding people who tell me I'm not xx enough (xx=good, smart, kind, soft, pretty - anything they think I should be rather than accepting me as I am.)
Emotionally it would be easier if I could close up those areas of my heart that ache and yearn as you would with the unused rooms in a too-big house. Just shut the door and let the dust gather in silence and darkness, until you half-forget the rooms were ever there. I think the pain starts when I covet what I can't create out of sheer force of will - a house filled with the laughter of kids, a lifetime of shared experiences and love.
blacks and bays, dapples and grays - a herd of horses made of wishes.
Take-away: Joy Harjo's "She Had Some Horses". It's a beautiful poem. And reminds me that we all have challenges to face.
(Soundtrack - Suzanne Vega: Machine Ballerina)