The Day My Worlds Collided

It’s odd how things hit you sometimes out of nowhere. Well, I guess they hit you from somewhere deep down inside of you. That secret closet that only you know about. The place where all your feelings hide. The place where all your secrets hide. The place that you think everything can go and be tucked safely away for all time. But, not much unlike a treasure chest, when it gets too full, there’s nowhere left to put things and they start to overflow. Emotions and secrets and feelings are the same way… I guess it only makes sense that when your secret hiding place starts to overflow, the thing that rears its ugly head first is the emotions because we work so hard to keep our secrets tucked safely and then our feelings run a close second. Or at least that’s how it is with me.

The last few months have taken a lot out of me, between my job and my friend’s tragedy that I have been dealing with and my own personal daily  life issues, I lost myself somewhere in the shuffle. I’m not sure what brought me to the realization that if I don’t get back to me soon, I may be lost forever. I used to go out all the time. I used to enjoy everything that was going on around town. I used to have fun. I used to just live my life… unapologetically. And then I would write about it for you to read. And then I stopped. I lost my unapologetic ways somewhere along the way.  I’ve kept trying to tell myself that I am going to get back to it. I’m going to start being me again.  I’m going to stop worrying. I’m going to find my way back.

The last few months I feel like I’ve been living this double life. There’s this whole secret life I’ve had for years. This life that nobody knew about but me and Joe. It was cozy and warm there like the house you grew up in. It’s not like I was trying to keep any of it a secret, but you don’t flaunt your security blanket. You don’t drag it around everywhere with you after you’ve been told you’re too old for it. You just keep it with your private things and when there’s nobody around you hold it and cherish it because you don’t need anyone’s advice or judgments about why you should give certain things up. So that’s what I did. I had this guy that was not what anyone would consider ideal, but he was my future ideal. He was that one person who knew the insides of me and reflected it like a shiny new mirror. And, man, could he write a letter. If you’ve ever dreamed of getting one of those well written love letters that you want to save and tie a pretty ribbon around so you can show it to your grandkids one day, that’s the kind of letter he wrote. Straight through my heart to my soul.

But then I had this whole other life. My real life. My day to day reality. I had work and dating and kids and bills and friends and coworkers and ups and downs. I had all these things that I couldn’t bother Joe with because life is stressful enough when you’re living in a cage. So I did the same with him as I do with everyone, I laughed and smiled and told him everything out here was fine. Life was a big sunshiney ball of happiness. And for the most part, it was. I was living my life on my terms with no regrets. I was doing what made me happy until it didn’t make me happy anymore and then I was doing something else.

Then I found out about Joe’s accident (You’ll have to go back to august if you missed it), and my worlds collided. My fantasy world that I had with Joe and my real life intertwined and tangled like long hair blowing in the wind. And it made knots that I haven’t been able to undo.

I spend lots of waking moments thinking about Joe, praying for him, wishing him well, daydreaming of his recovery. And in the times when I am not doing those things, I’m with a man in my real life who I also love deeply. It’s not a fairy tale romance. There’s actually not much of anything romantic about it. It’s logical, sensible, and comfortable… most of the time. The rest of the time it’s confusing and makes me feel a plethora of unexplainable emotions. The biggest of which is fiery passion in more than just a sexual way. He, too, gets me, just in a different way. I know there is no limit to the amount of love a heart can hold, but there’s also not one self help book on the market about what to do when you love someone, two someones, and not only are the answers not cut and dry, but the questions aren’t cut and dry.

I beat myself up daily with the what ifs of the situation and unanswerable questions of the possible outcomes. I know I am the only person out here for Joe  and if/when he gets out, I will be here to take care of him and I will be here to love him no matter how long it takes, but I also know that when that day comes, I will lose something else that is precious to me and every day I am torn up over it because I feel like I am being completely fucking selfish by loving two people the way I do and I don’t know what to do about it, if anything.

I’m not looking for answers or reactions. I guess I’m just trying to get back to my “It’s ok for people to see how fucked up I really am” mode. And I am also just trying to get back to writing because that seems like the only solace I have in my life right now.

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