I’ve been a little lackluster on the posting lately.
Don’t you hate it when people talk about not posting? I mean, just don’t post. No one really cares.

I like to only post when there’s something to post about.
Don’t you hate it when people give fake-ass excuses for not posting?

There’s no drama in my life to whine blog about.
The last time I talked about having no drama in my life, a shitstorm met me at the back door and stuck around for a year. This is me tempting that scabby diseased cheap whore, Fate.

Since it’s Wednesday, I’ll get away with posting a Wordless Wednesday.
Cause I’m lazy like that.

I found this on my car window one frosty morning last week.
Really, this is a re-creation of what I found because in my haste to get the bi-polar preschooler to school, I rubbed off the original. Still, the sentiment is what matters.

I know. Kind of makes me barf, too.
But in a good way.

My friend-heart broke again today. That part of my heart reserved for seeing people differently than what I portray them to be. The part of my heart that is the the same as mine and can therefore sympathize with their feelings. The part that I sometimes wish I didn’t have and instead had Dexter’s cold, black heart. The un-feeling kind.

But noooooo… I had to be granted with a heart that feels the pain of my friends. I blame Oprah for granting me the wish of feeling.

I learned today that an internet/for reals friend is divorcing. Another one. A couple I’ve spent time with in real life. A couple I actually thought was “it.” The couple that imagined in my tricky brain to do their own thing, then come home to each other, all the while knowing they were there for each other. The couple that understood each other so intently that they could live almost separate lives, yet still be IT for one another.

But I was wrong.  Their married life is ending. The fairytale marriage I created isn’t actually real. But that’s just the point. I created this fantasy marriage in my head of a happy couple who understood each other so intently that they could live their lives segregated: together but separate.

I’m horribly sad for my friend. I know the exact feelings they are experiencing. Unfortunately. Except I fought hard. Really fucking hard. I’m not eluding to the fact that my friend didn’t try hard, but there are different circumstances to our lives. I need to be married to my husband. My children’s father. The man I adore. The man I envision myself in 30 years sitting with on the mountainside front porch of our Finger Lakes retreat. The man I love more than I could ever love another. I fought fucking hard to keep our marriage intact the way it is today.

We are happy together. Every day isn’t perfect, but every day he makes me smile. Every day I am intensely grateful that he comes home to me and our girls. I thank him every day for deciding to stick it out and work on us.

I love that he loves me. Again.

When I hear of another marriage ending or having trouble, that pit in my stomach returns and reminds me of how much I love my husband and how hard I fought to keep him. It reminds me of how much I take him for granted and need to tell him I love him. It reminds me that the story I have of other people’s lives is just that. A story.

Happy 33rd Birthday to a man who is many things.

A solitary man on a beach

A man who walks his fatherless sister down the aisle

A man with no shame

A man who loves his daughters dearly

A man with a great ass

A man whom I frustrate

A man who loves me

A man I love more

Now go wish @hockeymandad a happy happy.

And below, leave a comment telling me him how cute he is.