Some could say, “Why ask why?” But these days that is my only question. I try not to ask “why me?” , because I know everyone cannot be perfect…some of us are in fact here to suffer something. There are things we must go through to learn whatever it is we must know, but I still wonder “why”.
Why am I alone? Is it because I ask too much? Do I want more than I deserve? I am willing to provide for someone all that I ask of them and nothing more or less. I don’t ask for extravagance nor do I ask for any sort of rise in status. I am no longer seeking a “knight in shining armor to rescue me”, these are the whims of children and the Manic :roll: . I know that if I expect someone to work hard, I must as well.
Gone are the days where I dreamt of a life as a housewife (yes, yes I know not the Feminist thing to say)…you know like in “Little Shop of Horrors” where Audrey wanted the house just like in Better Homes & Gardens? Well I wanted one too….but I don’t any longer. Mostly because I no longer dream & hope for such silly things. OK so I no longer dream & hope for anything.
When I was a teenager, my Mother used always tell me she didn’t want me to get a job like all my other friends. She told me I would always be taken care of and supported. I knew it was because she had always worked, always supported herself, and never had the chance to enjoy life. She wanted better for me, she wanted me to be spoiled, loved, adored. As I grew up I learned quickly my Mother was insane. I know me better than anyone ever could and I knew no one would ever come along to do these things, no matter how much I wanted to believe in her pipe dreams. I used to resent that she never taught me how to me my own woman, never taught me how to face the world and demand what I wanted, never taught me to be “that woman”. But now I know, she did what she thought was best. She meant no harm, she just didn’t want me to become her, always working and never stopping…never having someone in my life who would worship me and cherish me…never wanted me to be alone. But like all extremes, no matter which way you push them they will also have to swing back with the same force. So I am just like her and I know it kills her to know that. Hell, it kills me too.
I think of all her husbands and how they went on to do more, become better men because of her. And it reminds of all my exes, and they too have become better without me. Yet here I am, wondering how to make it from day to day.
Wait, what was my point with today’s post? I have forgotten, my brain is starting to drown in my tears again. Never mind. 
