This has been an interesting week for me, largely thanks to Mwaura. He has this way of making me re-analyse things. Considering I’m already a born thinker, I go to insane levels.
I saw a cat die last week. I was walking princess to Sunday School and we saw it lying by the road. From far, it seemed to be sleeping, and she remarked on how cute it was. Then as we got closer, we noticed it had blood, goo, and foam on its mouth, and it was making this sick, choking sound. I’m not sure who was more disturbed – princess or me. When we came back after church, the cat was silent and unmoving.
We use that path quite often, so we saw the cat three more times before it was taken away. I kept wanting to get something and cover it up, if only out of respect. But I couldn’t bring myself to touch it. Each time we approached the body, princess would look at my face and deliberately distract me by pointing out a bird or a monkey. One time she even said,
“Mum, make sure you look the other side, okay?”
My little girl knows me pretty well, and a week later, the cat is still haunting me. Dead things freak me out. The idea of a body that was alive, moving, full of spirit, and now suddenly it’s just cold, empty flesh. *shudder* Even dead insects bug me, no pun intended. Watching that cat die was probably one of my most disturbing moments – ever.
Anyway, in the midst of my Mwaura-ing, I re-affirmed that I want the ups of marriage without any of the downs. I want a bedmate that is faithful to me, but I don’t want to be jealous. I don’t want to wonder what he’s thinking when he’s looking at that waitress, or to get enraged when he tweets a random compliment at busts. I don’t want to wonder if it’s really me he’s thinking of in bed. I don’t want to think of what he’d do if he met Janet while she was sad and randy.
[Yes, I realize that these are simply insecurities on my part, and that they can’t be resolved by refusing to get married. It would eliminate the in-laws drama, but it wouldn’t stop me being jealous or stalking his MKZ friends, which is one of the many things I don’t want. The jealousy would be just as bad with any man I date. That, I can only evade by staying single and not having crushes. I actually amuse myself because I’ve just written a perfectly sensible and sober piece on marriage (link to be included later) yet I have such shallow, immature opinions about it. Oh well, those who can’t do, teach.]
I want someone I can sit with to play Scrabble and share ideas. I want someone I can call to take me house hunting, or talk to me about investments. I want someone I can call to cheer me up when I’m sad, and I want to do the same for him. I want a companion and a best friend.
Some people say marriage isn’t that bad if you find the right person. But what I’m most scared of is jealousy, and I can only stop that by building my self worth and choosing not to feel bad, because he will always be attracted to women. I’m not sure I know how to do that. Plus I don’t want to go girlified just to make him happy. That’s a lot of work.
Back to Mwaura. I concluded that I’m lonely for company of the life partner variety, but I’m really not a wifely girl. My friend asked me to list all the reasons why I think I’d make a bad wife. When I was done rattling them off, he said,
‘You’re right, you’d make a lousy wife.’
And this is a guy who actually likes me! So anyway, I made a little compromise. I called up a close friend and asked him to be my official go-to guy. That means I can do stuff with him and call him when I need a shoulder or an ear. There won’t be any sex involved, because sex just complicates things. That part will be hard – I admit – because I think he’s really, really hot. It’s also a little sad because the fact that he’s agreed to be my ‘friend guy’ means he has no notions of being anything else, and I admit that stung my pride a little. On the upside, he doesn’t read my blog much, so it’s unlikely to offend him. I hope.
Moving on. I had to do some blog housekeeping, and I ended up looking over some old posts. I was amused at the deep thoughts and life lessons I write down. Amused because I feel them when I write them, but forget them after posting. I’ve made a million resolutions, but they’re gone from memory in minutes. It made me realize something. A poignant moment is just that – a poignant moment. I may learn a lesson but I won’t carry it with me. I’ll just turn around and make the same mistake again.
What I need to do is live in the moment and enjoy it. If I spend my whole life trying to not repeat mistakes and trying to explain past flaws, I’ll wake up one day and be 80 with no memories to show for it. I need to get out of my head and smell the flowers more. Or at least, I need to enjoy the moments in my head, to enjoy my thoughts instead of just worrying about them.
I’m having a major crisis this year, and my friend says I’m simply afraid. It’s probably about turning 30. I refuse to believe it’s that simple, because I have a baby and no bio-clock issues. I don’t even want to get married. But my friend says I’m trying to justify my fear and make it rational. He figures I should accept that I’m scared, admit it makes no sense, and get on with it. I should stop seeking answers for Question 10 when I haven’t even read Question 1.
I’ll probably be scared for a while, then it’ll pass and I’ll be something else. So it’s silly to waste months being scared about being scared, and then wake up one day, realise I’m not scared anymore … and then start to wonder why I wasted so much time. Or worse, I may start to worry about why I’m suddenly no longer scared.
Wow. Sometimes, I really scare myself. I need to get some fresh air and stop freaking out. Pointless panic is not my friend. Happy Sunday everyone.