It’s a flower buddin’

It amazes me how much space and environment influence my mood and productivity. I am very grateful my mom has given me a place to stay but I feel so disorganized and NOT AT HOME that it really is beginning to affect my nerves.

My dream more than anything right now–is to be able to have my own space, with my own kitchen, my own things and decorations, my shows on the TV when I feel like watching TV, my music loud the rest of the time. I want a sewing desk with my sewing machine on it, I want a mess of fabric of everywhere–I want to love my space more than anything. I want to thoroughly enjoy being at home. I don’t want it to be expensive-it can be itty bitty-I have had itty bitty and I am more than content with small spaces. Literally. I lived in an RV for pete’s sake and an efficiency at one point too. This needs to happen in a big way.

Not having a space where I can distract myself causes me to dwell on my thoughts and my unhappiness. I heard something quoted by a monk or something–can’t quite remember where it is from but I find myself repeating it a lot here lately. “Those that think about the past are depressed, Those that think about the future are anxious but those that think about the present are at peace.” I guess I have been thinking that so much because I constantly think about how awesome it was to be married and that will surely make one depressed when they are no longer married.

I never realized how much I enjoyed my husband’s company until I didn’t have his company anymore. We had some nasty arguments over the course of time and those were not pleasant by any means but I still reminiscence about the “good ol’ days”. This past year has really changed me and what satisfied me at one point, would not satisfy me now if that makes sense. I tried working things out with my ex-husband but I don’t feel like there is any going back tt the “good ol’ days” because neither one of us are the same people we were when we were together.

Dallas is not where my heart is. I think about when we lived in other cities a lot and how great our weekend getaways use to be. A great weekend back in the day would involve waking up late on a Saturday, making coffee and then adventuring out together. Sometimes we would take a trip for the weekend. We were spontaneous. There were many times we would decide on a Saturday morning to drive to the beach for the weekend. I would drive his huge work truck and he would just listen to me ramble. I would talk and talk and talk and yes sometimes he was bored but he always just let me talk. And he would pay attention. And I appreciated that. I would play my music and sing and he would read a magazine. It was so EASY.

Another great thing about my ex-husband was the fact that he would try anything. He even picked up crocheting and crocheted a hat. I would crochet and he would practice and eventually he followed a pattern and make a little red hat out of some cheap acrylic “Red Heart”. I started spinning yarn–he learned too. I wanted to paint some furniture, he bought the paints, helped me sand and then helped me paint. Things were so normal and ordinary they were boring most of the time but at least I had company through the boredom even if I didn’t realize it.

He was kind and supportive even though I took that for granted a lot of times. He was a special individual. We grew apart and continue to grow apart as obviously we aren’t together anymore. Sometimes, I wonder why I never find myself content with the boys I have dated since we split. Sometimes, I feel so shallow because I often times do not find myself attracted to them. But that isn’t true. My ex-husband was not a hunk by any means. He was a bean-pole…I called him “my skinny”.  I was always attracted to him. When I first met my ex husband in person I didn’t really give him a chance because his clothes were dirty and had holes in them and his hair was all grown out. That was his style–after we started dating nothing about his appearance changed.. I encouraged him to get haircuts regularly but his hair grew faster than he could get a barber.

No it was his personality.

He was so funny. He had such bad anxiety about meeting people but usually people clicked with him more than they did with me. He would give anyone a chance, he would listen to things that you told him even if he couldn’t remember the details or your name a few minutes later. He was a mess. He had a good heart. We were always in agreement about matters of the heart.

Is it good to relive these memories? It makes me so happy to think about these things but I tear up every time because I realize how much I had to be grateful for and how ungrateful I really was. I do not find myself guilty for the things that have happened but I see the part I played. We really loved each other and there was a period of time that I was thrilled to be alive and to have him in my life. I took pride in being married to him. I want that feeling again.

One day I will feel like that again hopefully. But for now, I just want a space. A space where I can stay up all night, cook at 1 am, have my afghans and my clutter and if I’m bored, I will go out with friends or have them over. I will make new friends. I will develop new habits. I will leave this crossroads behind.

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About lilmommacass

I worry about the environment. I cloud gaze often. I dream of the sea. Doodler. Waitress. Nomad of sorts. River swimmer. I have a small westie named Lulu that I sleep with like a stuffed animal. And maybe one day they will say, "and who was she really anyway?"
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