Sorry to post two things on one day...this is something I wrote earlier today to myself. What the hell....
The plan was to come home and get some chores done.
The plan was to do the dishes, fold the laundry, and clean up.
The plan was not to indulge in my emotions.
The plan was not to poke and prod and write about my insides.
Looks like the plan fell through.
Sometimes I think about an alternative path, an alternative life that I could have seen unfolding for me. A life of serial monogamy in which I end up the crazy, wild, single old lady. In that life I would teach and get my "kid" fix through my students. I would travel in the summer and have an exciting life. I would continue to surround myself mostly with adolescents and teens, even as an old woman. I would inspire them and live vicariously through them. I would be happy and sad and lonely and excited and grateful just like I am in this life. It would just be different.
I guess the new plan is to get used to cycles of longing and to live my life as well as I can. The new plan is to find the moments that make this life special and to continue to indulge in the fantasy of fiction to appease the longing, as much as it can. Or maybe, to exacerbate the longing, which is just another form of indulgence.
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