Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Hope Above Hopes

I had coffee with my dad today. Technically we don't have coffee but get together at 1030 am. Coffee time. I gave up coffee and pop. Caffeine wigs me out. I am a much happier person when I'm not wigging out. Lol! But I'm not writing this to talk about my reaction to caffeine.
 
We talked about gamblers; people that buy lottery tickets placing their hope in a little piece of paper with numbers on it. Those that are addicted relentlessly purchase tickets hoping above all hopes that they will be the one out of 175+ million people who play and win the grand prize. Those odds aren't very good and yet there are people that are buying 5 at a time daily with the hope that is increasing their odds enough to win a billion dollars.
 
I can't help but wonder if I'm gambling with my future. It can go both ways. Its a gamble if I stay but a gamble if I leave. The odds of me finding the man that is my jackpot is slim at best. I'm going to make random guesses now, the odds of me finding any man I can tolerate is 1:10. The odds of finding someone who will treat me better 1:35. The odds of being alone; 0:0 (I have kids). It's actually kind of interesting. I went to the census bureau to see how many educated, single men in my age bracket there is and they have all kinds of stats. None that I'm going to quote to you but lets just say my initial estimates are quite liberal. The odds are less than I thought. Not to mention I'm not traveling the world looking for a mate. I'm not looking at all. If there is a chance meeting or he's already in my life, then that's how it's going to have to happen.
 
However with all the chances of a different future, what are the odds that my husband can be what I need? Can he change who he is for me? Should I even be asking him to? I keep saying he's a good man. He is and this whole thing is breaking his heart. I really hate hurting him like this but I can't give him false hope. Yet its unfair of me to ask him to hang in there because I'm deciding what our fate is going to be. He has told me that I will have to be the one to leave. He doesn't want to lose his wife. He admits he's been a douche-bag.
 
It's a risk to forgive and move on. I don't know if I can. Some day I will, but I don't know what it will take. I don't know if I can while we are still married and living together. Part of me thinks we should just move on and if we were meant to be, we can date and get married again. This time it would be my choice. But what are the odds of that? Why would I bother working on my anger towards him when we aren't married and I have a lifetime of crap to deal with just analyzing the relationship with my Mom? I wouldn't and that wouldn't happen. So that's really out of the question but since we are talking odds here, it is possible that could work. The odds aren't good but there are odds of it happening.
 
Again I wonder if the hope that I have is misguided. Because honestly it is the hope of a different life that is what challenges me here. I know I can make this work. I know I can deal with how he is and spend the rest of my life with him. I know I can keep playing it safe and keep the peace. It gets easier as the kids get older to juggle and balance his co-dependence. I can continue to not do things I want to. I can continue to make the best of this and let who I am wither away. I've been doing it. I totally can.
 
But hoping above all reasonable hopes won't let me step away from the possibility of a better life. Even a life alone means I don't have to justify why I wear my hair curly instead of brushing out the "f me curls" I've been accused of. Life alone means I will shovel my own snow, put up my own trim, paint my own house and grill my own food. A life alone means the girls and I get to laugh as loud, as hard and as long as we want. A life alone means my girlfriend and I can have a sleep over or late night at the bar and I am not threatened. A life alone means I get to play piano for hours if I want. A life alone means more camping, means more swimming, more gardening, more playing. Friends, mine and of the girls, come over more often. Camp-outs in the back yard or turning the tramp into a tent with blankets and sticks! But not everything about being alone is good.
 
A life alone means I will miss soccer games, school plays, concerts and other things because I am working. A life alone means we never eat out because we don't have extra money. A life alone means (if he doesn't want them) I sell the boats and the motorcycle. A life alone means I'm changing my own oil, doing brake jobs and other maintenance on my car. A life alone may mean there is just one car and girls don't get to use it when they need it. It means if I'm having a panic attack there is no on here to tell me I'm not dying. A life alone means I buy my own smokes at 10pm when I've forgotten to get them during the day. A life alone means if something goes wrong with the house, I have to figure out how to fix it or find money to have someone come in and help me. It would be a real inconvenience to be alone.
 
An inconvenience to be alone? That's it? That's the best I've got? It would be uncomfortable, not easy, and inconvenient. Really? What the heck. Seriously, what am I missing here? What am I not seeing? Is hope blinding me or is it really that easy? Is it really going to be that hard to take off jammie pants and run to the gas station? Is it going to be horrible if I miss a few school events? Because the major ones I'd lose my job over. Is it going to be a bad summer without boats and motorcycles? Will life be over if I can't find the money for someone to put gutters on the house? What if the boiler stopped working...I'd have to get creative. Space heaters, talk to my Dad and friends, check with the local county for help, I don't know exactly but we'd figure it out. I have never walked away from anything in my life because I thought it was going to be inconvenient or hard even.
 
I chose to keep a baby and raise her alone when I was told to give her up for adoption. I was ready to sacrifice whatever it took to make sure she was okay. I would do that for all my kids. And let me tell you, a lifetime commitment of raising a child was not a small decision nor an easy one. But I never look back nor regret making that choice. Even though she has put me through hell at moments in her life, I wouldn't choose to do it differently. I'm glad for it all. So to think that I would hesitate improving my life because of a petty reason is disappointing to me. I must be missing something or am I just so complacent now that I have lost the fight that was in me 19 years ago. Interesting...am I not a fighter anymore? I don't know. That will have to be another blog. However I do know that I still hope for more...is it really a hope above hopes or is the potential gain worth the risk? Guess I need to figure that out.

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