If you can imagine life as a journey, it seems to me that challenges can be dealt with, and disappear, or they can be ignored, and pushed down, and after a while they become so repetitive that they are like a traffic jam, forcing you to turn and take a new route, or put it in reverse to get to a place where going forward is possible, or just sit there, stuck.
Sweetie and I have a good relationship for the most part, but let us face it, life with me has not been a trip down a superhighway; nice and smooth with lots of opportunity to see where she is going. More like a narrow country road with hedges up both sides (I am thinking of a B road near Bath in England right now).
She has had to be prepared to stop suddenly to avoid oncoming traffic (me) going in the opposite direction from her intended. Such is the examined life, that it has been important to be able to stop and back up and change course to avoid traffic jams, or routes that go too near to drop-offs.
I do not like doing this to her; making her unsure of us when what she wants most is certainty, like that superhighway. Given a choice of course I would live in the open, and would drive straight ahead, sure of myself and happy being who I am. It would be a road less traveled, that is for sure, but it would be mine, not one for someone who I have been forced to invent. Oh how I hope, when I find and take that road, that she wants to drive a road that takes us to the same place.
In her post "I panicked…" this past week, Rhiannon asks the question that is like a ghost haunting me too:
"Why has my life, yet again, become one of sneaking around, hiding, lying to the people I love to protect something I'm proud of and that is not wrong or shameful, but instead is a big part of who I am. Why, in the place of greatest intimacy and supposed trust am I forced to be the pretend me?"
To end the analogy with driving, life right now is a lot like being in a big round-about. I feel as though I am stuck, but I know there are lots of different routes available. I am taking my time, and trying to be sure I do not have to come back here yet again in the future.
This old wreck hasn't many miles left on it for that sort of nonsense.