Most of the time I don’t think too deeply, because it hurts and makes me cry. I’m talking about the really deep stuff that once you start thinking one thing, it leads to others and before you know it, you’re crying—or really want to—and the past opens up in your head and wreaks havoc. For the majority of my days, I keep everything inside, bottled up, firmly corked, and don’t venture down ‘that’ road. But there comes a time when you plant a foot on that road and end up walking down it again. I find as I age, that road and what I see down there doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. As they say, time heals all wounds. It might heal them, but there are still the scars, and sometimes we need to poke the scars to enable us to move on into the future. Re-examining what went before can help mend what is to come, and last night I had one of those times.
Tears helped, though they weren’t the body-racking kind I should have given in to. I always stop myself, because I vowed years ago that no one would make me cry like that again, but the release of a few helped, and talking to my dear hubby about things I have inside my heart and head has made me a happier girl today. Some things are still unresolved for me, because with emotions you can’t always get a clean view of things, but I’ve accepted some things as they are, realised I can’t change how I feel, and will live with only Hubby and myself knowing what those things are; after all, he doesn’t judge me, understands what I’ve said, and loves me just the same.
Aside from that, I partly confessed how much I love my husband. I say partly, because, due to the past, there’s now something inside me that won’t let the full extent of my love come through. It’s a bugger when you’ve been hurt before, and even though I know Hubby isn’t that kind of guy, I’ve still held some of me back as a safety net. The question I ask myself is whether I should just let it go and show/tell him. I tried last night, but the words wouldn’t come, and I told him if he knew the extent of my love he’d think I was a bunny boiler. My best way of describing it was to say it burns. I don’t know if that makes sense to anyone, but it burns so hot it hurts my tummy, makes my heart hurt, but in a good way. I can honestly say, and know it would be true, that if there was no Hubby anymore, I’m done. I’d remain alone. No one can match up to him, and trying to find someone who did would take a million years. Also, the prospect of being with someone else makes me feel sick. He’s my soul keeper, the one man destined for me from birth, and I’m incredibly lucky and grateful that I found him/he found me.
I suppose this post is me working through things again, putting them back to bed one last time, and moving on with a lighter heart. The past contains arseholes and bitches—the king and queen of them ruled me for too long, and sometimes they appear now and will in my future—but with me, once I reach a certain point emotionally, if someone pisses me off/hurts me yet again, I cut myself off. There is no going back. Only two people have ever crossed that line, and I have no sympathy if they now live with regrets. A person can only take so much before “I mean it!” becomes reality, and if the years of warnings weren’t heeded by those two people, they now deserve my silence.
So! Although this post may be confusing for people who don’t know what the hell I’m talking about, it’s a post that I needed to write. It’s out there, public, my way of shutting the door on things. Good riddance to those strangling emotions I’ve held inside for too long, and a big welcome to a time of tranquillity inside my mind.