Arms Wide Open

Yeah, I'm a little afraid sometimes. It took a few days of wondering what was up with me, why I was waking up again thinking about the divorce and it's demise. I kept seeing faces of the women at the kids' counseling center, with kleenexes up to their red noses, puffy eyes from lack of sleep and a certain melancholy expression. In their faces, I saw my own. So many women who were going through the same thing I was going through, and I thought I had a handle on it. They probably thought the same thing. Yesterday, as I drove to pick the kids up, I saw their faces again - nearly two years later and I can still see their faces. The heartbreak they were going through. I said a quick prayer that they had moved on like I had, and then I thought that if I had moved on so well, why was I thinking about them?

I've been getting a little pressure from my friends to start dating again. They've talked up a few "really nice guys" and introduced me to a couple. Because I am a Fuzzy, I can talk to a stump and make it animated, that's never been a problem. I'm funny, I'm honest, I'm witty when I'm not feeling insecure and some people even say I'm pretty - big nose and all. Yet, every time I meet someone new - a potential date - I come home feeling a little deflated. "Nah... not worth it." The meaning behind this is twofold: One, no one will ever be worthy of my children. I want to say there are great guys out there who will try, certainly, and I could be as wrong as my friends tell me I am (and I kind of hope that I am); and two, waking up from a sound sleep in the middle of the night and feeling the heartbreak all over again (after two years!) is not worth having to ever go through again. I think I had my one serious relationship, and sadly, it wasn't even all that good, but I simply cannot be hurt again like that - the disappointment in myself at my own stupidity alone isn't worth it, not to mention the endless questions of why, how, with whom, how?

I've been running a couple miles a day for the past couple of days. I dislike running as much as I dislike grocery shopping, but I dislike my beer gut even more. Slowly, over the past few weeks, my gut has gotten bigger and I woke up on Sunday feeling pretty lousy. So, I vowed to lose the gut by Friday. I can do it. Just a lot of water, running in the mornings to get my metabolism going, playing hard with the kids at night, eating healthy and plenty of rest. It's really not that hard, especially when one only has six or seven pounds to lose. Anyway, as I ran yesterday, I had a bunch of thoughts racing around my head. At the forefront was Jeff, of course; and behind him were money woes, work woes and loneliness. They all wanted to be at the top of the list. So I took a deep breath and began sprinting, running away from the thoughts. The only one who could keep up was Jeff.

I looked up into the bright, blue sky and a hawk was circling. It made a big loop around me, teetering back and forth, having fun! I smiled fast and kept on running. When I stopped and looked up it was way off to the west of me. I stretched a little and turned around and ran back from where I had come. I looked up and it was right above me, following my path. When I reached the end, I turned around and looked up and it was above me again, going the same way I was going. As I slowed in my run, it sped up and flew to where my house was - I lost sight of it when it reached that destination.

It moved me, and since his birthday, I've seen a hawk every day. I even dreamed about him last night. We laughed hard in my dream!

And I realized, that not even death is keeping him from showing his love. And I learned that if death doesn't hold him back, then one lousy husband shouldn't hold me back either. I am free to fly at my own pace. I may never find someone worthy of what is in my soul, but I sure as hell am not going to sit on a perch and wallow.

And if I wake up again, worried about my fragile heart, I will wish to fall back to sleep and dream, dream, dream about the love that lives inside that fragile heart.