A momentary lapse of reason...

A friend of mine recommended a book to me...from which the following two passages really struck a nerve in me:

From "How to be Good" by Nick Hornby

"You see, what I really want, and what I'm getting with Stephen, is the opportunity to rebuild myself from scratch. David's picture of me is complete now, and I'm pretty sure neither of us likes it much; I want to rip the page out and start again on a fresh sheet, just like I used to do when I was a kid and had messed a drawing up. It doesn't even matter who the fresh sheet is really...I just want his rapt attention when I tell him my favorite book and I just want that feeling I get with him, of having not gone wrong yet."


"It's true that I don't want David to be David anymore. I want things to be structurally the same...I just don't want that voice, that tone, that permanent scowl. I want him to like me, in fact. Is that really too much to ask of a husband?"



When I sit across from my version of "Stephen" I don't necessarily see a chance for a fresh sheet...but instead it is more like I can see a first draft version of myself in his eyes. Before I made all the wrong turns and life was open and full of opportunity. When I'm with him, for a moment I can remember how it is to be just me...and not a mother or wife. I miss that girl of yesterday. I grieve for her. I like that version of me...before life happened.

I want to climb into his car and drive far and fast. I want to escape this place...this person I am. I do not like this second draft version of me. I wonder how he sees me? It is as if regardless of the passing of time, he is still my constant. A part of me of me is forever drawn to him like a magnet. It is comforting and easy. He is home.

I feel the pressing of time...it is slipping away from me too quickly. I want to grab it up and keep it in my greedy hands. Does he know his secret smiles, meant just for me, breathe fresh life into me? I know that I share too much during these fleeting moments - I'm afraid of running out of time. I want to submerge myself completely in the moment and rise again renewed.

I am confused by his careful distance. Is it for a lack of want? Am I so easily forgotten? Am I not worthy of temptation? Or am I to be impressed by his fortitude? Is restraint how one shows real love? I don't know these answers. I only know that I am so filled by reality and reason that I am suffocating under it. It presses me down until I am choking. Can you blame me for running toward the wide open space?

This pot has settled for so long that it has become stagnant. It has forgotten the joy of movement and motion. That is no life at all.

stir...stir...stir

Song of the moment: "All I Want" by Toad the Wet Sprocket

Song Lyric of the moment: "When I suffer from your neglect, it is my responsibility." from "Now I'm Gone" by Juliana Hatfield