Write. Just write.
Those three little words have been circling around my head for the past few weeks and I’ve successfully ignored them until now. Consider this a brain dump. I’m coming up on a full year of living with my in-laws. I don’t know the exact date I moved in, they do, but I’ve willfully ignore the date as it holds no sentimental significance to me. It couldn’t be more opposite. It is just a further remind of the status of my life, my relationship with my husband to be exact. And it’s just so… sad.
I find it hard to write about without painting him in a negative light because that is not my intention. I think it comes down to two people moving in different directions or at the very least extremely different rates. It frustrates me. The fact that we both want the same thing. To be together. And we’re both confused as to why it hasn’t happened yet. I’d like to think it is a little more frustrating on my side simply because that’s the side I see all of the time. Every single word that I want to type feels like it carries an excuse. I don’t want excuses. I want a family. I want to be a wife. I want to wake up next to someone and KNOW that I’ll get to wake up to that face for years to come. I want certainty. And clarity.
I do know that I am at the end. The result of this end will either be a dissolution of our marriage or a spark that ignites a significant change for the positive. I only hope it is the latter. I know what I deserve and to settle for anything less would betray the example I want to set for my son.
Stayed tuned for the exciting conclusion of my marriage…