To My Future Husband

Husband,

I said it quite flippantly the other day, but I was more serious than I care to admit, which is what I’m about to do.  I am in such a familiar place, which should breed comfort, but it never is comfortable.  It comes with over emotionality and fear so difficult to process that it just sits in my chest like a massive block of ice.  It gives me that freezer burn feeling in my chest and of course heartburn.  I feel like I have a stitch in my chest but I’m too frozen to cry.  I also know that crying doesn’t solve anything.  The strangest logic applies with this confession.  I am angry with you for not being here with me now.  So very angry!  I have to stress all alone, figure this all out by myself.  And I’m pissed with you, pissed with me that it is years later and I’m still facing life by myself.

Okay the last sentence is not true in reality, I’m not alone, but it feels like the truth when I’m fearful.  The frustrating part is the fear andpanic.  Nature has an unappreciated sense of timing in my personal circadian rhythms.  I’m always premenstrual at the end of the month.  From a practical perspective (an rare participant in these circumstances), I suppose I get all of my stress and irrationality out in one week, freeing up the other three weeks of the month for optimism, peace, faith, love and joy.  But we are not there now.  Now, at this point of Luna’s ebb or flow, we are in the fearful, frustrated, despairing  part of the cycle that is so saturated it takes three weeks of bliss to balance it.

Getting back to the point though, you aren’t here now.  And I’m scared that you never will be.  I sort of don’t blame you.  A nine month bout of exhaustion last year, coupled with permissive eating and a water retention problem has left me 20kg’s out of shape.  My body gets most of the blame for you not being here when she is overweight.  I tell her that she scares you off, hiding the part of me that is the fire flare for you, boldly pointing out my position in this sea of women you need to sift through to find me.

I don’t imagine that this would be the week in the month that we’d have a ‘love at first sight’ experience.  No.  This is my week for doing the swing with my emotions, where I am swimming so deeply in a lake called ‘me’ that you wouldn’t see me from the banks. My mood is deflated, my body inflated (mother nature can be so cruel!) and for some reason I tell myself that if you were her, or my father was wealthy or God a little kinder, I wouldn’t be here.  I’ve always cringed when my mother expresses stereotypical generalisations about men, but I may actually have to take ownership now of my disappointment in men and masculine energy, my blatant blaming of anything ‘guy’ for me not feeling at my best.  If someone had of accused me of this I would have denied it.   It is a shocking revelation.

Have a good day love. X