I have been having a difficult time lately, more difficult than usual. We have worn out our welcome in my parent's home, a long time ago, but it has come to a point where moving is inevitable. My parent's have been so very helpful and I am grateful for that. We have been here for five years, three years longer than planned. I feel homeless, not in the sense that I do not have a roof over my head, but that I don't have a home, and I need that-we need that. I have considered letting the boys stay with their dad for awhile while I get on my feet, but to be dead honest when the thought crosses my mind, I also start planning my ending. A good, good friend, the very best of the best, has offered to keep my boys for as long as I need while I get things in order, but that doesn't feel right either. So, while it is difficult to stand on these two feet of mine while I have three kids tugging at my hem of my pants, that is my only option. I need them to motivate me to keep going, and they need me. They are my family, my heart, my reason for being.
So, the home hunt begins. At this point, my mind is thinking I either want to find an inexpensive, three bedroom rental home near here, or move as far as I can, which is legally not far, within a 100 mile radius.
You are thinking, what about that man you are dating? You know that handsome, tall, bald guy I see you around with occasionally? Haven't you been with him for three years? Are you two planning a life together? He knew I was upset. He asked what was wrong. I didn't say. When I finally did tell him that I was considering letting the boys live with their dad even though it would kill me, or that I had to find a place on my own, he excused himself to go to the bathroom. When he came back, he inquired about spray cheese in a can. He didn't ask, how are you, how is the house hunt, what are you thinking, how can I help, let's find a house, don't let your boys go, want to stay here, will you marry me? He said "Want me to go get cheese in a can?" I left. Three years. He knew I was not okay. The next time I talked to him, and the next, and the next, he didn't inquire, offer support, loving words, a card, a drink. He loves me, I do know that, and I love him, but for whatever reason neither of us can open up and say what we really want and need from each other.
That leaves me at me, myself, and I. I need to do this on my own. I need to find a way, and I will because I have to, because I need to, and because I really want to.
On this Thanksgiving day, I really don't feel like celebrating. I am grateful for my blessings, my children, my parents, my boyfriend, his son, my siblings, my nieces, having a job, having a car, but holidays without my kids, aren't really holidays at all.
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