winkgirl4's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams. I know. I know. One naturally assumes that my NOT writing means that I am doing things that I don�t want to share with people. (I�ve been told that that has been the general assumption in the past.) It just so happens, however, that that assumption would be wrong. I have not written simply because I�ve not really had anything spectacular to write about. I�ve been keeping myself busy with odd tasks here and there and lots of activities with the kids. It�s been enjoyable- peaceful, even. It�s nice. Usually at the end of a task, I have something I�m really proud of showing off or, after a day of nothingness with the kids, I have some really funny or endearing stories to tell- like yesterday, for instance. We woke at 7:30 in the morning, had a bite to eat at a local breakfast eatery and, then, endeavored to redecorate Justin�s bedroom. We stripped the room, clean, we sorted all of his toys, painted his shelves, and moved the furniture so that it was a more functional space for a growing boy. I even went so far as to run a floor lamp through a multi-level table to maximize the use of space and to give him something unique that he could tell his friends that he helped build. (Yeah, I�ve been watching too many of those home-decoration shows. What can I say?) And you�ll never guess what the kids wanted as a reward for all their hard work � well, besides a brand new, cool room. They wanted the three of us to go on a bike ride together. So, after eleven hours of cutting and painting and sorting and tossing, the room was together and we were on our bikes in the cool of the evening enjoying a good ride. And it was bliss. It was a contentment I�ve been enjoying quite a bit, lately. I�m as happy as I believed that I might have been had someone been by my side. This is what I thought I would find with a boyfriend or husband. This is what I hoped a partner would bring to the table. But I made it for myself. Fletcher, it seems, has written me off. I thought that there was a rather decent friendship in there somewhere but, I guess not. No hard feelings. I wish him the best. I am realizing more and more that we make our own happiness in this world and we aren�t given forever to find it, so I understand when people need to make the changes that are necessary to for them to find that happiness for themselves. It�s how I�ve come to understand Shannon�s choices. It�s how I understand the choices that my sisters make. It�s how I�ve finally come to understand myself. Along with that, I realize that we all have our own timeframes and our own tolerance levels and no one can be faulted because other people can�t meet those. That�s life. You know what feels good? I go to bed happy every night. I used to dread even going into my room. I dreaded the claustrophobic feeling I got from rolling around in that huge bed. But, now, I go to sleep content and I wake up rested- most nights. (Tuesdays don�t count because most Monday nights I barely get in bed before I have to get back out.) I was telling a friend of mine that, sure, I�d like to make better money and I�d like to live in a better house but that will come (and I�m confident that it will) but, right now, I know peace of mind. I�m the person I hope I find in the man who will, one day, be my husband. I know he�s out there. I�m in no rush to find him. I�m in no rush to stuff him in my bed because, at this point in my life, there are no empty spaces to fill. 10:25 a.m. - September 13, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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