I asked for the signs. And they have been coming. I asked for them to be clear. That’s yet to be determined. Some seem clear as can be, others make no sense. I guess that’s what mistakes are for. I guess if everything falls apart in the end, I’ll have to pick up the pieces and beg for forgiveness.

But the fact is, I believe I am doing what I am supposed to do. I am choosing to be alone. But I don’t feel alone. I feel with God. I believe He will take care of me. I am choosing faith and trust. But my choices affect so many people. I have a family.

I have no solid reason to leave him. He’s a good guy. It’s not Eat, Pray, Love either, because I don’t have the money to go and “find myself.” I’m stuck in this life the way it is. Nowhere to run. So I better be right with the Lord because there’s no one else to turn to. No place to run away to.

I live with this guy, who’s called my husband. I think I could peg the time my love for him changed, however on further inspection, I might not have discovered the real reason why. (That’s what the therapy is for next week…)

And while I sit here and type these hopeful, sorrowful, words into this cold piece of metal, I am reminded this is no regular journal. Not like the one I wrote in my youth. No, the world can enter through this portal I provide.

So, I will choose my words wisely. Because this story does not just involve me anymore.

It began with a chance encounter. It did involve another man. No, we didn’t do anything other than flirt, but something sparked in me. It was like a breath of life.

I had assumed that once you hit a certain point in a marriage, once you hit a certain age, there just isn’t any more romance or lust, or anything similar. I had submitted to ordinariness and it’s not like I didn’t like it. I have transformed my self into a positive person (a story for another time) that can find the good in anything. I could live life without drama this way. No drama is good. Emotionless zombies make for an easy tromp through daily existence. I was so good at being a zombie, I didn’t even know I was one anymore. I had no feelings.

But then came the spark. It happened before once. It was wild and crazy. I did stupid things and I even told him I was leaving. But then the kids. What about the kids? And I wasn’t ready yet. I didn’t love myself even then. (My mantra was slowly working but it wasn’t there yet.)

So I decided to turn back into the zombie. Which was good, because like I said, I wasn’t ready. I didn’t fully love myself and I was definitely looking for love from everywhere else but the right place. I found my self worth in each and every compliment. In each and every drink. In each and every glance. But I always regretted it and felt ten times worse, like a drug addict coming off a high.

In the meantime, (fast forward a few years). I found God. I get it when people say that now. It’s not cliche. Because its not like God is hiding. God is there and has always been. I just didn’t look. And when I did look, it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t some miraculous moment that was like, “Oh, now I see.” It was work. It was slow progress. But when the day came where all the hopes and faith fit together, it was enough love to bring me to my knees and stream hot tears down my face.

And I love myself. I love myself, I love my God, I love my children, I love my husband and truth be told, I love every human I make contact with. (I hope this isn’t a high from the last book I read…like the Secret – great book, but you’ll crash and burn from that one too. I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.)

But the most important part is I believe that my God loves me. I do believe that Jesus was sent here to be an example of the love you can have. Today, He is risen. I have never understood that before today.

He gave me life. Jesus showed that when you listen, you follow, and you do as God has provided for your purpose here on Earth, you will be loved and He will provide for you. He gave me life.



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