Here’s my monumental failure at an ordinary life: I laid down all my chips and bet I’d be somebody’s wife.
At my age that’s what you do I guess you have to go all in; just wish someone would have warned me that I wasn’t right for him.
Though some good has come out of this, sure, I’m healthier, I’m me, but it all feels close to buckling under my fragility.
There’s a lot of me that’s saying staying positive is key, cling to optimism, shake this off, get back to loving “me”.
I’ve let go of my dual nature — no more switching day and night. I’m no longer in rotation between darkness and the light.
But it’s tough losing your lover, with no one to call your own. Even harder is the impact of securing a new home
A new job too, a new neighborhood, new ways to see myself. Am I too old to admit that I could really use some help?
To start over without passing go, without two hundred dollars, is to roll the dice and jump again into turbulent waters.
