A General Pondering

Jack and I are having fun at mom's. I keep going back and forth about whether I'm staying or going. One minute I'm completely decided on going back with him. I think I probably will, to be honest. But every so often the thought of staying around seems fun. I remembered I could probably visit my dad and Sally which would be incredibly wonderful. But I really think home is calling me...no matter how hard it would be to give up all the other fun things I'd get to do here. I can hear in Robert's voice how much he misses me and needs me. And if I'm not going to spend Christmas with him...the least I can do is spend time with him before Christmas...even if that time may not be everything I dream it up to be. I have trouble with dreams.

I find myself constantly disappointing myself. I'm in my own head a lot of the time...and I never grew out of imagining and day dreaming. I create perfect scenarios in my mind...ways that my life could play out in the fairy tale version. And then of course...we don't win the lottery...and Robert doesn't turn into the most charming handsome Prince and sweep me off my feet and take me away into the night...and I don't wake up every morning with a puppy licking my face...or go to sleep with the glow of a fire in our nonexistent fireplace. And when those things don't happen....I have to sigh...and remember that things like that don't happen.

I have high expectations.

I hear all the time how things like that don't happen. It seems like everyone these days is set on statistics....everyone knows the chance of winning the lotto is ridiculously small...everyone knows that there's no such thing as true love...and that nobody is perfect...everyone knows that in the real world...you have to calculate your expenses before buying something like a puppy...and that a fireplace is a safety hazard. It's all fairy tale. But then...why do they feed it to us? Why do people buy a lottery ticket? Why do people risk everything for love? Why is it that everywhere I look...there are fairy tale stories...and people telling me not to read them?

It isn't fair. I want to believe that someday something really great will happen to me. That I'll get..."lucky". That an easier way will fall at my feet. That something will really surprise me...or amaze me. That maybe...just maybe...I'll think "wouldn't it be great if this happened?" and then against all odds...it does...instead of being dissapointed when it doesn't.

I dare to dream. But it really blows sometimes. Because while I get lost in day dreams...the world around me is still kicking the shit out of everyone I know...and constantly screaming at them that what they dream about isn't real. That you can't live in a fairy tale. That you have to accept reality.

I don't know where to draw the line...because I don't want to believe that my life can't be everything I dream it to be. Cause if it can't...the greatest story out there...that you can do anything you want...or be anything you want...isn't true. Do I settle with reality? Do I ruin all chances of anything great ever happening just because I decided that it was just unlikely? Or do I keep my high expectations...and hope for the best...and continue to be disappointed?

Robert and I have so much fun talking about day dreams together. We went to a casino near us a few weeks ago...and before we left I said "So what would we do if actually DID win some money". We spent a while talking about all the things we'd do with it. What we'd invest in...what we want most...a drum set...a pottery studio...a dog...land...a small quiet house in the woods...everything we could dream of that would make our life perfect and simple. We have similar ideas about the things we want. Basically...we both just want to be doing what we love. Live our days out slow and peacefully in a quiet place near family and friends. Gardens, a place to swim, art everywhere. And have it all without having to sell our souls first and waste half of our lives struggling. And after talking about it...I let myself think "well why couldn't it happen?" And we went...and we lost...and we came home. On our way home, we repeatedly said "Well it was worth it just for the experience"...but I think we over-said it so much that if became clear it was just what we were telling ourselves.

"It was just what we were telling ourselves." That seems important for some reason.

People believe in things they shouldn't all the time. Religion as a whole is pretty much against reality. It's hard for me to believe there really is a big white wonderland in the clouds to float up to after I die. And I wonder what the point of believing it is...until I remember how it feels to day dream about a better life...a perfect love...and an easy path.

Maybe there's a reason humans for the most part allow themselves to buy into some sort of unrealistic fantasy. It goes even as far as getting lost inside of fiction novels. What is it about us that wants something unlikely...something magical? And why do we feel we need to stop ourselves from believing in it?

Anyways...those are just some questions to throw into the void.

The most magical thing I know is love...and that seems just as real as anything else.

-Kate