Perhaps I am just another victim of the romance myth. You know, that myth that drives our consumerism and gets the female half of box office sales.
"Find your one. Find your one. Find your one."
The myth whispers.
It gives every little girl (and boy) a purpose. Okay, not everyone, but many of us.
Then, one day, I find my, "one." Even though I don't believe that there is a one, I can say I achieved the disney dream of my prince.
I have a husband, and not just any husband, but one that makes me happy. Giddy at times. Not just a husband, but a best friend. I have found the one, and I am left flat, wondering, what now?
I guess this is why they say to build a career. I guess this is why they say you shouldn't look for another person to complete you.
No, I do not feel like he completes me, but I do feel overly satisfied.
I talked with Nikola about this the other day... I told him that I was too satisfied by him and our life together. I used to run around- different activities and different festivals and different countries, and although I was not always looking for someone, the thrill of possibility was always there. Who will I meet that will make me go weak in the knees?
I am not saying that I wont meet amazing people now. I am just saying that I am content to stay at home, playing with my son and flirting with my husband. An entire existence broken only by brief trips to the store and the occasional visit to grandma's.
I have no desire to leave our little bubble, but I do have a desire to have a desire. I have grown accustomed to desire- thirst. I want to want.
So, I am thinking of old hobbies and new hobbies, and how to integrate a little baby into a life that allows me to explore on my own, or at least explore myself.
I bought some acrylics the other day- perhaps I will take up painting. I am also looking for earthbuilding workshops in the area. Of course, when the half hour I get to myself every day is taken with dishes or laundry or a bit of writing... the thought of adding more is a bit daunting. But I fear that if I don't find a thirst I will let myself wither, and we can't have that.
"Find your one. Find your one. Find your one."
The myth whispers.
It gives every little girl (and boy) a purpose. Okay, not everyone, but many of us.
Then, one day, I find my, "one." Even though I don't believe that there is a one, I can say I achieved the disney dream of my prince.
I have a husband, and not just any husband, but one that makes me happy. Giddy at times. Not just a husband, but a best friend. I have found the one, and I am left flat, wondering, what now?
I guess this is why they say to build a career. I guess this is why they say you shouldn't look for another person to complete you.
No, I do not feel like he completes me, but I do feel overly satisfied.
I talked with Nikola about this the other day... I told him that I was too satisfied by him and our life together. I used to run around- different activities and different festivals and different countries, and although I was not always looking for someone, the thrill of possibility was always there. Who will I meet that will make me go weak in the knees?
I am not saying that I wont meet amazing people now. I am just saying that I am content to stay at home, playing with my son and flirting with my husband. An entire existence broken only by brief trips to the store and the occasional visit to grandma's.
I have no desire to leave our little bubble, but I do have a desire to have a desire. I have grown accustomed to desire- thirst. I want to want.
So, I am thinking of old hobbies and new hobbies, and how to integrate a little baby into a life that allows me to explore on my own, or at least explore myself.
I bought some acrylics the other day- perhaps I will take up painting. I am also looking for earthbuilding workshops in the area. Of course, when the half hour I get to myself every day is taken with dishes or laundry or a bit of writing... the thought of adding more is a bit daunting. But I fear that if I don't find a thirst I will let myself wither, and we can't have that.
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