Well, it's been the better part of a week since my last post. My husband has been working for a friend; making repairs to her home. He has been very careful of the way he converses with me. I have tried to be loving and supportive, but at a distance. I've been way too involved in trying to "fix" his life.
It's a bit difficult to step back and watch, although I know I must. I can see his fear. The old patterns of our life together are falling away and he's not sure what to do. I know I must stand back and let the chips fall where they may. He'll either rally or he'll give up. I don't have a clue how it's all going to play out.
I'm holding my own, saying the things I need to say. Tonight, I'm going to a poetry reading in town. My friend is going to present some of her incredible writings. I still feel strong, although, when I wake up, my first reaction has often been one of fear. I can feel it in the pit of my stomach. My old self is falling away. Waking, lately, has been reminiscent of the way I've felt in the weeks after the death of a loved one. I'm resolute, however. There is no turning back. Can the caterpillar keep from becoming what it was meant to be?
I'm proud of the fact that I'm finally beginning to take care of my needs. It feels good. It feels right. My focus is clearing. The fog is lifting.
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