Change is gonna come....

Today is definitely the "another day" I needed yesterday. Sometime Sunday evening or early yesterday I tripped into a puddle of despair and exhaustion, for some inexplicable reason.

Sometimes I feel sad just for the sake of wallowing in the emotion, but yesterday felt like it had an underlying reason. But it was something I couldn't quite name. Oddly enough, I finished the book I was reading - Kingston by Starlight (auth. Christopher John Farley) and I loved it. And when I love a book, when I get so wrapped up in the lives of the characters, it's sometimes difficult for me to pull myself back into 21st century reality. Particularly after reading a book that took place in the 18th century. So maybe that's it...maybe I was just mourning the loss of friends I had made over the last week of reading.

Maybe it's something deeper.

I often get caught up in thinking about the past. I feel the need to comb through the last 10 years of my life, looking for places I can pinpoint - aha! that was a pivotal moment! - seeking to place blame on a former self for being stupid or indecisive or lazy.

I know I shouldn't be so hard on myself...none of us should. One of my closest friends, after hearing me blather on about this same topic a few months ago, suggested I try her approach to negate dwelling on the past. Whenever she thinks of something that upsets or bothers her, she imagines the event, and then mentally forces an "Erase" - a dumping of the mental hard drive into the Recycle bin as it were.

Silly? Maybe. But whatever works, right?

Last night, I found myself mentally sabotaging my relationship once again. If you were to ask me if I was happy, in a general sense and on the surface, sure. What's not to be happy about? Thrown against the Maslow hierarchy, I've got everything I need and a whole lot I don't.

I've been in a committed relationship for going on eight years. No engagement, no imminent wedding. I am fine with that. In truth, that's probably more my decision than his. I have pushed against it for so long, he's nearly stopped mentioning anything to do with legality. It's just not necessary in my opinion.

But part of me wonders if I think it's not necessary - with HIM. Our is far from a textbook romantic comedy pairing. We fight. We bicker. We tell each other to shut the fuck up on occasion. But there are good things too. I just can't shake the fact that I don't feel any desire to make an effort anymore. I don't know if it's that I don't have any respect for him anymore, or whether I am just holding in so much residual anger that manifests itself in arguments about who does the laundry or whether the litter box has been cleaned. Minor, trivial things that allow us to avoid the true problem.

There is a part of me that thinks I could do better, have more, if I hadn't allowed myself to get swept into this situation. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I feel as if this has been the path of least resistance, rather than a conscious choice I've made. It's easier to just stay, to be part of a couple because we have so much history together now, so many shared experiences. But now we find ourselves in a rut comparable to the Grand Canyon.

We used to have a lot more friends, to go out more often, enjoy life. Now everything is an effort. All he wants to do is sit in front of the tv and play video games. We talk ad nauseum about getting back into shape, about trying new things and new experiences, about traveling, about dreams and hopes and goals. But there is never any action. Even the smallest of projects requires monumental effort. Our basement has been in a state of renovation for going on two years. But video games are more important than working on it. And if not the video games, an endless endless stream of excuses. "I'm not feeling well" "I haven't had the money to buy the materials I need" "I'm finally starting to feel better...I'll get started on Saturday". Saturday never comes. Ever.

To the point where I no longer believe anything he says. If I try to bring up discussion about division of household chores, I get accused of "scorekeeping". There is rarely an acceptance of accountability. Instead, I am the bitch. I am the complainer. I am "too intense".

So then I walk away with no satisfactory resolution, and even more questions. There is another underlying thought here too. I don't love where we live. I mean, I love Chicago, but when I moved here, I planned to stay 5, maybe 6 years. Enough to get a real taste of the city, but not so long that I rooted and never left. Then I met M. and this relationship started so well. I thought I had found the person who shared my gypsy dreams and would pick up at a moment's notice with me when we got bored and were ready to move on.

This summer I will have been here 9 years. I feel as if the last 4 have been solely because of M. His family is here, and he won't move away. The apron strings are still attached, apparently. The family issues could take me years and years to outline, and I suspect they'll make an appearance here eventually, but for now, it's enough to know that there's no flexibility in our location.

Which begs the question - should I just be happy to be with the person I am supposed to love, and it doesn't matter where we are? Or have I sacrificed myself, my dreams, and everything I am for the sake of someone else?