Sometimes I'm so happy that my heart is bursting. Other times I'm so depressed that I feel like I'm living in a sea of cold, old suet. And sometimes I'm at peace with my life.
I have been thinking a lot about feelings and responsability. As in, if one loves someone, is this ensuing any responsibilities? And I'm not talking about children, of course. But, actually, what does a marriage means. No, not about the fact that the sparkles have a very short shelf life.
What does "I love you" has in its wake? Why should it have anything? What does the "I do" stand for? What do I expect from myself in this cat cradle? And from the other one who's implicated?
The only thing that's clear, at the moment, for me, is that I'm grateful we had children so unconsciously fast, and a lot of them for that matter. What they are giving every day, what they are teaching me every day is so heavy in substance that it makes me reflect on a lot of things from a new perspective.
I wish I was less prudish, to be able to crack the door a little larger on things. Nothing happened, in fact, and in no way do I try to change the coordinates of my life. It's just… well, maybe I become older and somehow accept more the people as they are.
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