House On Colony

The news came this morning that we knew would be coming since springtime, but the prior knowledge somehow didn't soften the blow. I guess I've been guilty of the ostrich reaction, not wanting to have to think about moving somewhere else. As I sit at my desk this morning and think about why that is, I've begun to realize that it's mostly because I fear the reaction from Ryan. He doesn't know how to handle stress and it usually manifests as anger, withdrawal, more stress for me and not-talking.

And I was thinking how a couple weeks ago when I was having a rough time of it at work I finally confided in Lynn that we had had a fight the entire weekend previous and she looked at me and said, "was this your first one?" and I wanted to simultaneously laugh and cry.

Chocolate bars and flowers don't make up for not talking, brooding. Illogic and alcoholism. Fear and loathing. We are bound by the chains forged from the memories we have together, and these chains are fragile. You must continually forge new ones to replace the ones that have grown old and weak. I think about that house on Colony with Anne and it seems like a dream, and then I think, "of course life should be like that." Life is far too short to resign yourself to a situation that is less dream than nightmare.