Every year Esquire magazine does this segment called “What it feels like…” and they ask a bunch of different people to write what it feels like to do or be various things.  Like, whats it feels like to be a guard at Guantanamo Bay.  Or like what it feels like to be schizophrenic.  Its very real people describing very real stuff that happens in life.  Sometimes its funny, sometimes sad.  Sometimes interesting.  Always Real. 

I’ve always wondered if this was the place for me to be Real.  I mean Really Real.  When my mom died, I struggled with writing because I didn’t want to be Debbie Downer (wah-wah) and I’m just one of those people who kind of guard my feelings.  That is not to say I don’t emote.  I’m an emoting fool.  But, the really hard feelings I like to keep for myself.  Because really?  Its none of any body else’s business.

I have a Thing, though.  A thing I’m really being led to write about.  I think it might help me through it a little, and maybe someone will read this (that’s a mighty big maybe!!) and be able to find the silver lining.

You see?  My husband recently told me that he’s not sure if he really loves me.  He’s not sure if he ever did.

Writing that just made me feel like the biggest failure! 

Big Hands said that he wonders if he’s with me because he feels obligated to be because of Holden.  This came as a total shock to me, I have to admit.  Because I always thought we were living the Good Life.  I really did!  I thought we were a well oiled machine!

I’m learning that I was the machine, though.  Mylove was keeping us together.  Though BH loves me very much, he’s not sure its the real deal.  This is not about me or my inadequacies.  This is about him needing to Find Himself.  I do want to take this opportunity to say to him, “Go West Young Man.  It ain’t so easy out there when no one is taking care of you.”

And, while I don’t want to be the bitter one?  He’s kind of being selfish.  He knows it.  Three weeks ago we were fine.  Now?  We are going to separate!

We haven’t told Holden yet.  I don’t even know how to tell him.  I don’t even think we are doing the right thing!  Sorry Buster!  It took him seven years to marry me and all of three weeks to let me go.

Ugh.  I do not want this to be a pity party.  I am fine.  You know?  I was fine before I met him, and I will be fine again.  I put my Big Girl Panties on the other day and decided that I OWN this thing.  Its MINE.  I will regain all of myself that I gave to him for the last ten years.  I can put whatever I want to on the walls!  I can make whatever I like for dinner!  I will watch what I want to on the television!  I will see the movies that interest me!  I will get a kitten!

I’m going to find the humor in this, I will.

I’m going to put it all out there.

I’m going to be free to be me!