I'm not sure what actions to take to follow through on the seething mania of the previous post. I'm going to work on it. I refuse to calm down and just forget about it.
But now I'm going to put something down here in print that I probably shouldn't. I'm going to put it in print because it's been bouncing around in my head for two days now, and I don't think it does mean what I fear, and if I just write it down and send it out into the world, maybe I can shake it off.
I'm deeply restless. I'm mind-blowingly, terrifyingly, unignorably restless. I want something to change, want to have an adventure or a challenge or a brand new experience. I want to stop being contained by some of the choices I've made and some which have been forced upon me.
I have not made a secret of this. I never really shut up about it.
About two days ago, my wonderful, awesome, terrific husband said to me (I am paraphrasing), "I love our life. I don't need anything more than this. All I want is more of the same."
I'm not going to put in writing what flashed through my mind. It was not a positive response to what was a very genuinely lovely sentiment.
I have spent the last 48 hours convincing myself that what he's talking about the fact that the changes and challenges we are facing in our life together are the right ones - the ones where we try to make stories and make our living from telling stories. I can get behind that. I can see how that aligns with what I want.
However, if what my husband just said was, "I don't want anything to change," when I have been screaming for months that I change like I need oxygen....
Then we have a problem. A mind-blowing, terrifying, unignorable problem.
Next post - I'm going to talk about bunnies. Seriously. And forget I said this.
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