Emerging

Who wouldn't want such a handsome guy? Look at those stunning markings!

SMT (Single Male Turtle) seeks SFT for companionship and possibly something more down the road.
He enjoys long walks in the yard, slugs and terrorizing nosy kittens. Also pina coladas and walks in the rain He is not into health food, but enjoys the taste of champagne.
Call 555-231-KAME and leave a message after the tone.

Spring is coming, and Kame will soon come out of hibernation more permanently than he has before now. He has been teasing me with occasional forays out of his mulch and dips into his bathing pool. I know he's not finished with his long rest, because he hasn't started eating yet, but with every degree the temperatures rise, I hope he will soon emerge for the season.

Kame is not the only one who is in a transition phase. This blog started out as a record of the journey I was on, the attempt I was making to try to save my marriage. Two years later, the attempt has failed, but I am still here.

“She remembered the day vividly, for how can you forget the day your heart is broken? The funny thing about a broken heart is that it's not fatal. Though you wish in vain that it were, life continues on and you have no choice but to continue on with it.”
~Tracy Winegar

I have been continuing on, because really, what other choice do I have? Through frozen water pipes, a quadrupled electric bill that took three months and hours of fruitless and frustrating phone calls to sort out, no water for 3 days, no washing machine for 2 weeks... I have carried on. Through stubborn children and pets passing on, through financial and emotional crises.  Through the loss of a very dear friend, through the normal, and not-so-normal, ups and downs of every day life.

When I started this blog, I closed my first entry with a quote:

“I found a pen; another person found a scrap of paper; a third person, the words. “Dead End,” we wrote and left it on the side of the road for the next traveler to find and perhaps turn around in time.”
~For Sarah, by Annie Harmon

 I didn't know, when I shared those bleak words, that the road I was traveling down would turn out to be... not a dead-end, exactly, but certainly a detour, a deviation from the path I set for myself nearly 18 years ago on my wedding day. It was certainly not the road I wanted my children to travel. I wanted so much more for them, so much better... but life is not always what we choose. Sometimes, it takes us in directions we neither wanted nor expected and our only choice is to survive.

I am in the process of choosing some new paths to follow. College is a given. I will finish the course and earn my degree. I completed an associates last term and am on track for my bachelors. This is happening.
My career is the second fork I've taken in the road. Although I would prefer to write fiction, especially fiction for children, I am learning new skills to increase my value as a blogger and content provider. The market demands coding experience, so I am taking a class in basic HTML and CSS. I may never morph into a graphic designer, but I hope to at least gain a few valuable skills. And finally... This blog's focus will, indeed, it must, change. It will still be a chronicle of the journey, but now the journey has moved in a different direction and I, too, must move on.

It has been three years since I discovered my husband's affair. My marriage has been over for nearly two years, although neither of us was ready to admit it until a year ago when he told me he wanted a divorce. The final papers were signed two months ago. I am considering, just beginning to seriously entertain the idea, of re-joining the ranks of the truly single woman. I'm considering the possibility of dating again. Considering. Entertaining... cautiously sticking the very tip of my toe into the river, wondering if I dare step into the waters...

While I'm not ready to "jump right in" to dating at this point, I have allowed a male relationship or two to begin to grow into friendship, with very safe people. Both of my male friends are very happily married men, fully, completely and blissfully in love with their wives and their lives. I am learning, slowly, to interact with men as ... just me, without the filter of "I am a married woman" playing constantly through my mind. I recognize the change in myself and realize now that my insecurity up until this point when dealing with the opposite sex has been unhealthy.  I am also recognizing that I have a long way to go, emotionally and in healing, before I will be ready to enter into any kind of serious relationship. I also have my kids to think about. They will be my number-one consideration for quite a long time to come, and that puts any thought of a long-term commitment on hold for now.

So, when I say I'm considering dating again... What I mean is that I'm ready, after the maelstrom has finally begun to settle, to crack the door open just a hair and let a little sunshine in. I'm ready to meet new people. I'm ready to make friends. To open my heart to the possibility that one day, some day, I might meet someone special, someone who understands loyalty, commitment and honor. Someone who won't swoop in and "save" me from the difficulties, the frustrations and the day-to-day loneliness, but someone with whom I can laugh, someone who likes to read my stories and poems, someone who wants to know why I sleep with my door closed and my windows open at night. Someone I can trust. Someone I can love, and who can love me in return. Someday, I will find someone whose secrets will intrigue me, whose hobbies I find fascinating, whose efforts I can appreciate. Someone who makes me laugh with delight, who makes me smile. I will know he's the "right one" when I am satisfied to know he exists, and that he's thinking of me with the same quiet, contented delight, even when we're not together.
Someday.

For now, friendship is enough. I am learning, slowly, to embrace the idea that success is not in my lack of failure. It is in my ability to get up and move on.

Happy journeys, friends.
~Mary

“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.” ~Winston Churchill