I like things that make sense. I like logical things. I don’t like things that can’t be explained. But at the same time, I believe in a god that I can’t see in person. I believe in love. I believe in miracles.
My life has always been a mystery. I’ve never been “normal”. I never looked like the people I saw on tv, or in magazines. I never felt like what I thought everyone else was. It took me 46 years to figure out that I was bisexual. I couldn’t even be normal when it came to attraction.
I was extremely lucky in one thing. I found my soul mate at an early age. David has been the love of my life for 22 years now. I look around me at all the unhappy, single/divorced/alone people, and wonder how I got to be so fortunate.
But my emotions are still a mess. I love too easily. And I’ve loved people I shouldn’t have loved. I learned that you can love more than one person at a time. It’s possible, but it leads to chaos. You can love them, but accept that you can’t ever be with them.
Spoiler alert for Grey’s Anatomy*****************************************************
I was watching Grey’s Anatomy tonight. One woman had a baby she didn’t even know she was carrying. April & Jackson had to make a decision about their baby. On top of dealing with the death of my sister, I was pretty much in tears for most of the episode.
Life doesn’t make sense. Why was my sister allowed to have 5 kids that she didn’t take care of? Why couldn’t I even have one? Why are babies born with deformities? Why do we love people that we shouldn’t? Why does someone I just met show more concern about me than someone who has known me for while? Why do I put faith in people when they only continue to disappoint me?
I don’t know. You would think by this point in time, I’d learn to quit asking, and to quit wondering why things happen. I don’t know know why I was infertile, but my siblings were overly fertile. I don’t know why I got to experience so many types of love, and others never see any at all.
I don’t have any answers. I don’t know why anything happens. I don’t know why people enter, and leave my life. I don’t know why my sister had to die at 53. I’m just trying to muddle through this life the best way I know how to.