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Posted on Aug 28, 2011 in Before Marriage Blog, Spiritual Life | 0 comments

Alone

Bored and lonely…  That’s how I feel these days when I’m at home.  I used to really enjoy being alone, living alone, having no one around to mess with my stuff.  I liked knowing that no one would leave the toilet seat up, put their stuff where I wanted to put my stuff, or make a racket when I wanted things to be quiet.  I adored the quiet.  I didn’t feel afraid or vulnerable.  Everything was neat, clean, orderly, and perfect.

What happened?  Why do I wish that someone else was there, making noise, moving my perfectly organized stuff around, creating dirty laundry and sticky floors?  Why do I go to bed alone and wish for someone to be snoring beside me, crawling all over me whispering, “Mommy, I don’t want to sleep in my bed tonight.” and sticking their tiny toes in my nose?

I think about my married friends with all their kids running around, writing on the walls, shoving half-eaten bananas under the couch, using their lipstick to decorate dolls, and covering the dog in pink yogurt; meanwhile, their husbands can’t seem to put their clothes in the hamper even when it’s sitting right next to where he chronically drops his clothes.  Is that really what I want?

YES!  I think it’s a very good sign that I’m ready to be married.  I am bored, lonely, and tired of cleaning up after no one but me and the cat.  There’s a certain pleasure to living in a house that is never messy, where everything is right where you put it, and where no one gets in your way.  But I am looking forward to the messiness of having other people around.  I’m looking forward to sharing my space, my thoughts, my frustrations and fears, and getting so much in return.  I understand that having a husband and children means that life will be messy.  There may come a day when my child takes one bite out each apple in the fruit bowl, then put them all back to perfectly hide the bites – and I will scratch my head in wonder at what would provoke such an odd action.  I may wake up one morning to find black Sharpie drawn all over my hardwood floors.  Much worse things may happen, bringing up fears and doubts and making me confront sides of myself that I didn’t know existed.

I’m ready for it.  At least I will be at the center of something wonderful – a family.

If we were chatting over a cup of coffee, what would you tell me?

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