X admonished me the other day. "Why weren't you this way when we were married?" Oddly, she said this soon after she said, "I like your shirt," and "Those sunglasses look good on you," and "Your shoulders are getting big."
She clearly didn't realize the tilt the question would inflict upon me. I thought it was insensitive. I told her so. Even moreso, it was fucking ironic.
What spawned this hot probe? My wanderlust. I don't want to live here any more. Number of reasons. Soulless corporate exurb. The tenuous nature of the industry in which I am employed. The bubbling desire to find a niche where I belong instead of hemmed in between my neighbors, lovers of 4x4s and neck tattoos. At the most basic, it's time for a change.
The reason I feel like I can make such a move right now is because I'm not running away from anything. I am, for lack of a better term, peaceful. I'm taking care of business (every day). My days of spending all my blood on the concerns of others are through. I'll not deny myself, mask my own needs and wants, in pursuit of others and theirs. Which has left me with a singular question.
What ARE my needs and wants?
I admit to you, I had no answer to this question when I first posed it. Face and brain more empty than the Seattle Mariner trophy case ("There's no fucking easy way out of this!"). By now, I have some suspicions.
One of them is I want more experience and to get it in a manner that is initially terrifying. Out on the last limb. Not thinking about why I CAN'T do it, but the reasons I should.
The complication, of course, is AJ. I won't leave him. In the conversation where I mentioned half a dozen places where I would like to start looking for jobs, X gave a thumbs up to each. But she won't leave. Because The Douchebag won't. Because he's "established" here.
Get the irony?
She laments that I wasn't more open to adventure/moving/limb walking, yet she is consigning herself to a person who is confident in the depth of his roots and will be going nowhere for the next 20, 30 years. Won't even entertain the idea of moving to be near his children (Austin, TX, for the record and I'd totally move there so April could be my designated driver).
All of which leaves me with a life out of my control, in the hands of someone with whom I've no connection at all. This, ultimately, will not stand.