I’m bummed. I knew something was bothering me subconsciously because for the past 2 nights, I’d been doing my stress habit and right now, it’s painful to walk. I didn’t go to jujitsu tonite, I didn’t have the energy. I also didn’t work out at lunch because the judge wanted me to redo all the relief clerk’s verdict forms for the murder trial I walked into upon my return from vacation. I didn’t want to address the problem so I didn’t bother thinking about what it might be. However, talking to Mr. W earlier in the evening, his concern about my lowness and encouragement to get it out of my system got me to hit a few points that were so painful they brought tears to my eyes.

I had a very different vacation from Diana. The place was beautiful, the people were nice, the food was amazing, but instead of it being the relaxing Calgon-take-me-away paradise that it was for Diana, for me it showed that the light at the end of the tunnel, at least at the particular tunnel I’m in presently, is dim. Six years I’d been stagnant. All of this, the job, the house, the lifestyle, were supposed to be temporary. Six years is not temporary. I’d already thrown my original timeline out the window, and I’m good with that. But I can’t do this lifestyle forever. I realized today that I don’t want to. This singles life was great last month. I considered throwing all the traditional norms out and just living day-to-day forever, taking life for what it offers me, savoring every small gem in every unexpected place. Now, I’m afraid that that’s just not me. I’m someone who has a general plan in mind. I’m always going somewhere. There is always another goal or expectation in front of me. I set my life up a certain way to reach that goal.

I want to wake up in the arms of my husband in the chill of a December morning. I want to snuggle with him in front of a blazing fireplace while he reads the paper, sometimes out loud as items he thinks will interest me catch his eye. I want to watch my little girl play around the house and marveling at our family Christmas tree. I want to make her hot chocolate with marshmallows floating on top, so she can warm her little fingers around the mug and sip from it just like Mommy and Daddy drinking their coffee. I want to answer her questions about why certain things are. And then I’ll brush her dark hair into a ponytail and we’d all get dressed to go on a drive to some pretty street or hotel to admire their Christmas decor as Daddy takes photos of us in various silly poses, she with her little mouth opened toward the sky in laughter, arms out as if embracing the world. When we return in the evening, we’ll make cookies or parfait, then settle down curled up in blankets and Dad and I would take turns reading her a continuing story that I’d write daily for her, about the adventures of a little girl who’s a lot like my little girl who does some funny things but ultimately has a big heart and does the right thing. She’d fall asleep, and Dad would carry her to her bed, tuck her in, and he and I would tiptoe back to the family room or our bedroom for our private time, having the same great conversation that we’ve always had, marveling at life and appreciating each other.

Only, I don’t know whether I’m dreaming of my future, or reminiscing about my childhood.

What I want most right now is to curl up with Mr. W and hopefully fall asleep as he holds me, stroking my hair or my skin. I miss him and his comforting presence.