I'm glad to see you have no "pissed at men" issues. ;-) Damn that man that broke your heart.
When I'm not wearing heavy chain mail and fighting orcs, I take some time to write about my life. Actually, I never really do that, but I'll do that now, to share with you guys, since you have brightened my day with your funny posts.
Ok, I live in the NE. In a decent-cized city. I have a front porch and a back yard. It's a front porch neighborhood -- built in the 1890's and early 1900's. People stroll and visit their neighbors. I send send my kids to the corner store to buy milk. They can walk to school. They can bike to a large park where they play baseball in little league. The park has a lake where they can fish. On one of the steets, some new business have been popping up: two trendy cafes, two nice restaurants, a wine shop. All within walking distance. The weather has been cool lately. So I spend the evenings on the front porch catching the breeze. The backyard gets the early morning sun. The block is lined with 75 year-old London Plane Trees which frame the street like a catherdeal. It's a green canopy that makes the summers cooler. For this I must fall on my knees and thank God. We just moved here and rented this house. I hope it will help heal our marriage. Sometimes space, light and green growing things can nurture our hearts. Maybe, maybe not.
Sometimes I feel like a fool and a doormat. Sometimes I feel like a hero, fighting to give my children a home with two parents and the light of God. Sometimes I remember that my wife, in her MLC and affair, had really lost herself and it's my calling to be patient, and to try lovingly help her out of her fog. There's little I can do. Maybe, through the fog I can call her name, her true name: passionate and faithful wife, loving mother, healer, beloved daughter of her Heavenly Father.
Chain mail aside, I feel the need to awaken my passionate, loving, joyful, clear, purposeful warrior that lies dormant within me. If you guys are the praying sort, please throw a couple up for me.
