I don't actually...not anymore.

I have had some head spinning epiphanies lately.

One of them being that I no longer believe in love.  Not the way I used to.  I don't believe in the guy that will come along and make it all okay.  That one who will see a future together and make things work.

I move along in this relationship, clearly in love.  The rose glasses have worn away to clear lenses and we both move along loving each other, but the fiercest guards up anyone has ever seen.

The expectations I once I had, no longer exist.  He speaks of the future, he's very settled.  He's calm and cool and quiet and strong about 'us'.  But not enough to ever consider getting married.  I've never mentioned it to him concerning us, but I've said more than once I'd never get married again.  And it's something he's spoken of not doing, repeatedly.

Just two nights ago, listening to a comedian's performance, he made me listen to something that caught his attention. The comedian was talking about answering his daughter's question about her being a bastard, "Now, Boogey, you know I love your mother too much to marry her."  Crowd makes noise, "What?! You don't know me!"  He goes on to to address the crowd.  "Her mother and I are going to be together for always.  Always in love.  Always loyal.  And do you know why?  Because we're not married, that's why! We're like soulmates on permanent booty call."

When he pointed out this particular part to me, when he replayed it so I could hear it, I knew he was just reiterating what we had already sorta kinda talked about.

I miss certain things about marriage.  And then I don't.  I miss the so called security and realized, hey.  That shit was destroyed by a man who did what he wanted anyway despite being married.

I don't respect the paper anymore.  I don't understand it anymore.  It's harder to get it undone than it is to get it done.  It's strange how the government must get in my bed and and determine the deal.  And then when I want to be in my bed alone, there are so many things int he way and so much difficulty, it's daggone crazy.

Apparently, I am now one of those that believe the paper doesn't determine the love, the loyalty, the trust, the security, dependence, reliability.  Just because you stand in front of my family and friends, and get this - GOD - doesn't mean that you will uphold your end of the bargain.  I know my shortcomings and blatant imperfections, I know the struggle within with what's "right and wrong", so knowing that in another human being, where the hell do I get off expecting the follow through of these promises?

I can no longer find comfort in expectations and hopes.  Is this relationship going along without a plan?  Maybe.  I don't know.  Kids are getting older, attachments are growing deeper.  I am careful with this.  There have been changes and what not.  But, eh.

Friends of mine are getting married, and I am truly happy from my toes to my dreadlock tips for them.  I admire what they've found and the lives they are building.  But it's not something I envisioning myself doing again...relationship experiences, not just mine, make me realize so much.  And I refuse to go there to that point again...

Fall Out

I was out a week ago, almost a week ago, and my eye caught someone I knew.  It took me a moment to really absorb who I was looking at.

The walk was the same, but - it had a more pronounced limp.  The features were the same, but - there was more gray in the hair, a gauntness to the face and a tiredness in the grooves.  The body was slimmer, broad shoulders weighted down.

The man I was staring at, that I was double and triple taking at, was my infallible, indestructible, strong big brother.  The man that called me white cloud because our mother would put milk of magnesia on my face for my eczema.  The big brother that tossed me around, tickled me endlessly, laughed when I worked out with him imitating his strongman moves, and let me swing from his bicep.

First out of our mother, named after our father, he was supposed to become so much.  Yet, there is only so much we can instill in our kids and let go hoping they make the right choices.  He looks old and run down now, a result of a life where he tried to get the most out of little regardless of the method, including hurting and almost destroying his own mother.

I often wonder about my children, I see things in them that I know other parents probably see in theirs and live in denial about.  I carry my kids as hard as I do, but they still return to me because there is still that patience and softness of their mother.  If I abused them, they wouldn't curl up under me so.

At 48 years old, he has seven kids.  Two older ones that have no use for him, and five of them I don't know how they are going to make it.  Ages 15, 11, 8, 6 and a nearly 1 year old.  When does he get to "retire"?  When does he sit back and take in life at an easier pace?  At this rate, he will be working to take care of the 1 year old until he, himself is 65.

My eyes watered and I texted a close friend.  She reminded me that we are all living results of our decisions, good or bad.  We are living with the results of paths we've taken.  But that doesn't stop me from grieving for him.  For feeling for his kids, I know how hard it is with my two.  It doesn't stop me from feeling a pang, wanting to help them, but knowing that if I open that door it will drag me down and suffocate me.

This is pure madness.  I feel more like an only child everyday...