Something I figured out tonight… something I’d thought about before, wondered why many times…but never had an answer until now.
Why don’t I feel as “grown up” as most of the other 40-something’s I know? Why is it, that I feel so abnormal, so out of place with my peers?
Most of the people I know my age, talk about their jobs, their kids, their gardens & recipes. They talk about their spouse, & where they’re going for their next vacation, or about how the car “just isn’t running right, so I’d better take it in”.
I hear them discussing things like regular adults, day to day stuff, “grown-up” stuff.
So why am I still stuck contemplating my navel, & why my relationships always seem to turn to shit?
Grief. It’s grief. And the fact that most of those other adults don’t feel it all the time, as I seem to be.
Sure, I know it sounds odd, so let me explain my reasoning.
Grief – is Love with no place to go. It’s Loving, but not being able to give that Love to someone. Not having a “home” for it. Grief is having so much love, & never being able to show it, or having the one you love throw it away. It’s Feelings so strong you seem to crack at the seams, and they leak out of your face, sliding down your cheeks, only to fall to the floor. It’s the desolation of knowing that the Love you have, has nowhere to land, either because the one you love has passed, or simply left you behind.
Grief – is Love, lost and confused, spinning back on itself in the hope of finding resolution, only to discover there’s no doorway back to how it was before.
And these other adults, the people I watch, they don’t have to worry about Grief in that way.
Because they have their purpose, they have a place for their love to go. They have their SO, their contented life, balanced &, for the most part, fairly whole. Grief, when it does strike, doesn’t consume their whole world. They’re able to get through it, because they have that balance, that Love with a Home to go to.
So, they talk about their gardens, and their weekends, their jobs & kids & pets & what they’re going to make for dinner.
Well, I know my home is not here.
Where it is, I don’t know.
Someday, maybe, I’ll find a Home for my Love. Until then…
I am Grief.
Only on the blog will you find me this open.
Out in the “Real World”… I’m fine.