I try hard to not let this website become my diary. My postings are meant to entertain, and while some posts do dance around my very own relationship issues, my purpose in writing is not to vent. However…I am about to let go of some personal thoughts that need to be released…and really, isn’t that what writing is all about? Setting free, putting to paper hopes, dreams, fears, feelings, insights, inspiration? The page is my canvas, and the pictures I paint are many and varied and cathartic, and this time, personal.
I am about to leave a marriage of thirty six years for parts unknown. I’ve been a willing participant in my husbands modus operandi for many years but can no longer live this way, and since he wants and can maintain our large home, I’m moving out. I’m just not sure where. Sadly, Puerto Rico is not going to work out at this time, and after researching the entire Eastern seaboard for a locale that meets my criteria, I’m going to give Key West a try. Hey, Hemingway, right? I’m going to pack a very large suitcase and go. That’s it, I may be back, I may not.
There’s a lot on my mind. Some random thoughts in no particular order: I’ve only been to Key West once, and there’s a real possibility I may pass out from the heat or from over-exposure to aging, male tourists in white sneakers. I’m not sad about the marriage breaking up—I was sad about that when I saw the marriage failing ten years ago—now I’m just tired of it. My husband and I are both determined to remain civil and close friends, which I don’t see as a problem. But he is exhibiting some rash behavior that does make me sad and uncomfortable, and I question his motives and wants. I have friends that died this past year, the first of my peers to pass, and it’s troublesome on many levels. I’m the one that has lived the raucous life—I can go anytime, and I feel I better seek the life I imagine now. I will miss my living and loving friends very much, but I want to be in a writing community, with people that support me and my work, with people that inspire and encourage. I will miss my possessions, but they will be waiting for me when I’m ready—when I find a home and a job. I may come back to Maryland with my tail between my legs.
When I take a walk or ride my bike and I think about the enormity of what I’m doing, I almost cry. Not because I’m sad or scared, but because of the difficulty of the challenge ahead, and the energy, diligence and discipline it will take to make it work. Desire is not a problem—I have imagined living alone for so long, I can’t imagine not trying it. This is a big deal and I have no idea what will happen—only pictures in my mind of what I would like to happen—a life imagined. Thanks for reading—and listening.
photo credit: rebecca longman / plus.goggle.com
This is the only information I have on this photo, photographer not identified. A marvelous and appropriate picture, don’t you think?