Remember that song from the 90s that went, "Nobody likes you when you're 23."? Yeah. About that...
New beginnings, right? I can have a fresh start with the people who really love me and who really matter. I can give my all to my girls and my family, I can treat my friends how I want and should have been this whole time.
It sucks asses, but maybe its for the best. The inner turmoil and self hate and questions that will always go unanswered are still there, oh they're there full force. But I have a sense of newness. A taste of what could be. I might be coming into myself and becoming who I wouldn't have otherwise. Who I should be.
Divorced. How much emotion that word holds for me. Is it the same for everyone? Is it wrong to still have a king bed and sleep right in the middle like a queen? More questions that shall go unanswered.
I can do what I want now. If I want a computer, I can buy one. If I want to work more hours I will. Buy a car? Why not! If I want to shave my head I fucking will. Fuck it. I can't lie, it is a little invigorating... To be able to make my own decisions. But that's just driftwood that comes along with the crash. And it does feel like a crash. With blood and guts and heartbreak and sadness and just straight shit. Shit that I have to work through alone.
I'm heading out. Somewhere with vast possibilities and decisions to be made. Decisions I'll make on my own, or with the help of people who I choose. I'll step out and see what there is with my wonderful girls by my side. I love those girls with my whole being. My responsibility as their mother seems to grow every time I turn around, and I don't dislike it. It's empowering and exciting. I get to show them how to be a strong woman. They don't have many in their life. So I'll be that for them. They will grow up knowing what's what. And they will grow up knowing not to take any shit from nobody. My girls will be strong as fuck. Just like their mama.
Keeping this one short and sweet, folks... Just dipping my piggies back in the water.
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