Great Happiness

Every path has a purpose. Right? Each life would have a happiness to it. A peace. Something that made it good. Each life could be good. Which path leads to greatness? Great happiness. Is it hidden behind one of those doors? Or is it hidden along every path? Not on the main roads, but the little side paths. The bumpy and windy paths. The paths lined with overgrown bushes and unkempt trees, their spindly twigs reaching out at you as you climb over their fallen, hollowed branches filled with small woodland creatures that have settled along this bumpy, windy path and now call the fallen branch home. To the scurrying ball of fur, a hollow branch is great happiness. And it is found on the bumpy, windy path.

I fear it's a secret path. A path you might stumble upon and pass not knowing it's there to take. The fell trees and wild ground cover disguising the way. Hiding the way. Keeping its secret with piles of old leaves and a general lack of order. I fear it's a secret path, but I live in hope of finding it. That I may be close. That the next branch I step over will reveal what I've been searching for... A home. A great home.

Parked (and have to pee!)

Sitting in the parking garage of ORD for 2 hours with one hour to go (have to pee!!) with a sleeping toddler lightly snoring in the backseat (CAN'T go pee!!!) stalking my husbands plane on FlightAware realizing I really need to find pilot wives in my area if only to have someone actually understand why I would give myself a bladder infection (cause I have to PEE) just to see my husband for an extra night. (btw, I don't just hang out in garages for fun. My son and I flew in today because the flights tomorrow were oversold. No big deal, by the time I got the bags and the car from the offsite airport parking, hubs would have landed and be released, right? Oh, his last trip was to and back from Newark? Crap. And now I have to pee so badly if I could just find a dark spot in this garage and that drug-sniffing German Shepard weren't walking around with his cop friend, that Starbucks cup would definitely be full and not with caffeinated goodness. Which I also need right now.)

The Fear Of Loss

I covet my life. It is wonderful, I want for nothing. I am loved. I have a gorgeous family, I am overflowing with joy. Yet, sitting here alone, my mind wanders to what he's doing now. Where he is, who he's with. Years have gone by and still I am stunned. Swept me off my feet and a small part of me has never returned to ground. That small part is the skipped beat. The caught breath. The chill. Should I ever lose everything, my life crumble into nothing, my heart broken, I will seek him out. The love, or lust as it were, I had for him would befit a shattered girl. An empty soul. I love so hard my life, my husband and son. My body aches with it. Tears well at the whispered thought of losing them. Just the shadow of the idea is so dark it hurts to look into the light that is my life. The memory of him blends into the shadows. Not that he is sorrow, but anything that is not what I have now is so hollow in comparison. I hope never to want him again.