But then really, what pains me is just the One Other Life. The one where I am not me, but instead a more butterfly-like, carefree, open-hearted freedom lover, full of whimsy and je ne sais quoi and courage and an uncanny ability to live in the moment. That me wouldn't have done anything as mundane as marriage and child-bearing. Or if she had, it would have been in a barefooted, art gallery loving, bohemian way. I think she would have also died young of a tragic illness...
She wouldn't be so anxious, that's for sure. And she wouldn't ever worry about her Other Life because one of the lovelinesses of Her Life would be her trusting certainty that she was living the Right Life.
I am terrified of Her.
I am so afraid she is going to arrive one day and announce that not only is she the Other Life, she is the Only Way to True Happiness and that I will find myself forced to choose between this wrong-headed First Life with all its work and dreary-ness and commitment and everyday-ness and My Real Self Who Has Been Waiting All This Time To Be Happy.
I assume she would show up in the form of another love, a Gateway Love to that new life where all is at it should be. But she could arrive in the form of a new passion (ha! I hope Brooke reads this), or an innocent trip abroad that takes me to my Dream Home that doesn't allow children.
I know I married well because Scott listened to my tear-full confession of this fear this morning and said, "I totally know what you're talking about." And we agreed that we might well find other people with whom we would have some great moments, but that we couldn't think of anyone else we wanted nearby for the shitty ones. When I am diagnosed with my tragic illness, it may be romantically lovely to gaze across the moors with my deep-set, bloodshot eyes warmed by the knowledge that I had lived the Only Right Life, but it will be infinitely more possible to live in This Life with Scott lying next to me...
My Other Life just got a tiny bit less scary.
3 comments:
WRITE A BOOK PLEASE! I love the way you express yourself my dear dear friend. My thoughts with your words always so much more eloquent and selfishly affirmed. I want to hear more of you because you explain myself to me. This resonates so well with my "am i waking up in this room again?" thoughts of late. AND "ok focus, you only get to do this right once - stop wishing you were somewhere else, being someone else.. wishing to be / do something not even remotely important as the opportunity right in front of your face. Ahhh. Thank you for writing Alison!
Oh my kindred spirit. You take my ramblings on Shrek and transform it into poetry!
I too am struggling with the Other life and have shared it with my man..who admirably heard my words but knows my heart and is secure in that.
But I'm not sure what to do with the dreams of the 'other'...I suppose it is OK to indulge, but not to dwell...I hope.
I am wise for choosing such good friends - I was sure I couldn't be alone in this, and your post last week Nadia was a smiling wink to me. I have dwelled a little less since writing this down this morning but I didn't have it in me not to indulge - the wonderings about the Other(s), the musing about the alternatives, and finally writing about it. I like what you wrote Brooke, "wishing to be/do something not even remotely important as the opportunity right in front of your face." I find it hard to believe (remember?) that this is really important all the time. It seems like tracking down Happiness or My True Self is supposed to be more important. But as soon as I write that down, I know I'm already mocking it. Friends, you keep me glad to be on the path with you in my crowd of witnesses, and I in yours.
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