I've been a blogging maniac on Myspace for well over a year... probably two by now. I guess it's time to branch out. I'm not unhappy with Myspace. I just think it's perhaps time to limit my thoughts there. I blog about things that I'm curious about. I blog about things that are on my mind. But I guess the problem comes in that I don't always write with fluid thought. My thoughts are some times cut-short by my internal desire not to repeat myself for those who do find my blog interesting. And I don't want to write a zillion blogs about how great my life is, or how sucky my day was. Is that even a word? Sucky? It comes up spelt wrong... but I know I've used it and so have others.
The fact is, I guess I just need a place to write about whatever I want without caring what everyone else is going to say. I used to have that... but then everyone started to criticize me for speaking my mind... unfortunately they were also the people who knew the old me.
I'm not that girl anymore.
I've changed a great deal. There are still some "old" parts in there... but they too have been updated with all the new flashy accessories... well, there are limited accessories. I'm a girl who likes to be simple. Cut and dry I guess. I'm not one for dressing myself up to look a part.
And lets be honest, I've got a lot of parts; I'm too many characters. At least that's the way I think sometimes. I've got mommy-hood, school, work, wife, friend, house-slave.
And you know, I was told this last week that I don't look like a "Mom". Is that a good thing? Well, in the context.... no, it wasn't. Do I look like the type of person who would never be pregnant? Do I look like the type of person who doesn't cuddle their child close, and love and nurture? It was that kind of context.... and it left me wondering what kind of picture people gain from looking at me and my actions.
My friend told me this week that I'm beautiful for who I am. And while that was very sweet... I don't know. Some days I feel haggered and question what it is even Jeremy sees in me. And he loves me to pieces.
And my love for him is beyond scary. Not scary in a bad way. But in such a vulnerable way. He has my heart. He has to know it. I have held nothing back from him. And perhaps that's why it's so scary. But, then I remember that he's given me just as much of him. We put ourselves out there for each other. In a way, what is there to be scared about... but at the same time I think about statistics, and I look towards those around me... our society doesn't exactly nurture long-lasting marriages.
We've made it 8 years. I don't doubt that Jeremy and I could make it 80 years... except that's physically impossible. Unless I plan on living to see my 99th birthday, and him his 101st... it's just not likely.
And speaking of him... he just walked in the door... at 9 p.m.
