The Fantasies of an Indecisive Woman...

Every little girl sits in their room, wearing a sheet on their head, envisioning a daring rescue is only moments away from ensuing from that very moment in time. She sits and waits, and wait and waits. As the sun begins to dip below the redwood-studded tree-lined hills, her doubts begin to waver. She slides the sheet of her little blonde head and sighs, hugs her doll extra tight that night, and stains her pillow with her tears. Each tear, a gentle relinquishing of the fantasy; each gasp of air, a stubborn surrender to the terrible reality of life: prince charming does not exist.

I came in and out of relationships in, incredulous, unhealthy ways; diving into the pot- smoke-filled realms of dark teenage rooms to screaming fits of rage and panic and writhing on high school sidewalks. I've done it all, short of killing someone.

I met my husband on a late May afternoon, after stealing a break away from helping a friend working toward graduation. Said friend and I decided to venture to Guerneville to see what the action held for us. Riding in his mom's new Toyota (or maybe it was a Honda?) sedan, enjoying this brief moment of freedom between us. We rode into town, but the only mission on my mind was to track down my loser-of-a-boyfriend and attempt to turn him straight by my mere presence. We parked at the Pedestrian Bridge and walked down to the "Creeble Spot" and there he was. Playing a guitar that sported a fucking Brittany Spears sticker, playing something, was my future husband and father to my children. Not many women envision meeting their partner in such circumstances, and I certainly imagined they would be much more romantic, but none of my previous relationships started off any better, so why improve now?

This retrospect makes my heart twist and turn in my chest. I feel like I'm losing sight of my marriage, or maybe my love for my husband. He has many good qualities about him, but sometimes I feel like he's still a child and I've been footed with the bill of re-raising him. It takes a strong woman with passion, intelligence and, most importantly, love, to handle a task such as this. And sometimes I feel like I don't want it anymore; I don't want this task, it's too much and it shouldn't have ever been mine in the first place. Then there's other times where I'd gladly do what is asked of me, obey the law of nature (mother gives birth, wife then raises), and take my place in line behind the other wives to receive our daily penance of personal denial.

I am very lost in the fog of my marriage. We no longer see eye-to-eye on many things and are constantly burning energy trying to get the other to see the err of their ways. We're missing the point entirely, but unwilling to take the first step towards walking the path together. Will we ever walk that path together?

There's still so much hurt, so much distrust, so much blocking our love for each other. Kinda hard to see through the fog, but I know the sun is shining above it all and perhaps one day, we'll be able to see it, together.