..writing for the sake of writing..

I hardly ever do that anymore. I think about it though all. the. time.

I am so spent, pulled in to many directions. It used to be at times like these that I would rise early, grab my cup of coffee and write while everyone above me was sleeping. Gosh it seems like yesterday. Life was hard then, but different hard.

I am starting to come to the conclusion, life just IS hard. It’s messy and confusing, and vulnerable and despite best efforts sometimes it’s just hard. 4 years ago I was still living in Port Alberni – preparing for a birthday with my Dd’s it would have been her 10th. Wow. That actually seems crazy. In a few weeks she will be turning 14, 14 going on 24.

DH was already out of the house, but I was living there with them. It was scary but good, scary in that I had no idea what I was about to face but good in that I just knew deep down that I was going to be okay.

What a difference four years make. Today, I have come home from work a little bit early, I am living part time in Vancouver, the guy I am seeing has informed me that he’s like to go on a date tonight to one of my favourite wine bars in Railtown. I have a business that is mine, built with amazing luck and continues to grow and evolve, I am nearing the end of my career in youth ministry, I am leaving in 7 days on an amazing off the charts wild trip to Africa. I am so excited about that. I am confident, mostly healthy and very independent. Not much mention of my kids. No. After a lengthy legal battle with my ex husband – they decided to live with him. It’s hard, I miss them more than I can express and in the last year and a half I have worked very hard to make a life for myself independent from “mom”. Now the fruit of that is I feel very removed from their lives. It really doesn’t have to be so but as you will remember my ex husband isn’t a very nice man. He is pretty manipulative and does what he can to hurt me even still, even now after all these years.

I have made up my mind recently, I am going to start looking for an apartment or a condo here in Vancouver so that I might be here full time. Monday to Friday. Weekends off, less business travel more pleasure travel. There is no going back in life, I know that. I realize that days are gone of my quite foot steps making my way downstairs in search of coffee… and a quiet place to write for an hour.

I am grateful of the opportunities. Yet. There is still a sadness inside me. Sometimes I wish I could just for a second turn the clock back, If I had a wish it would be this: I would wish to be THIS person the woman I am today, but place me back in my family four years ago. I have had to grow up, harden and become something else to survive the last few years. It’s strange to remember that shy, quiet writer from back then.

Well I better get ready, he’s going to be here soon. Things have been so tense these last few day, I sometimes wonder if he sees me at all. My shell he sees for sure but thats all. Not the real me, only the mask.

 

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