This is what the LORD says: "Cursed is the one who trusts in man, who depends on flesh for his strength and whose heart turns away from the LORD." Jeremiah 17:5
Home cooked Italian dinner, chilled red wine, and a Chris Robinson melody jam soothing through the speakers.
I really heard myself say today on the edge of Union Square while we we're debating a $5 greasy meat wagon meal versus an exorbitant bowl of glass noodles with atmosphere...
"Let's just pretend that money is no object and have reckless fun."
Say uh?
Now I understand it's highly unfair for me to place blame on the good sport of a man so I will use the excuse of the 70 degrees with a breeze weather that has me giddily losing my mind.
But as I am sitting home on a whimsical Thursday night listening to the bongos rhythm rise up and meet me, I'm mourning the chase of the sounds....
Now no longer alone:
The hustle has become less hurried.
The struggle, less serious.
Dependency is dominating and I'm losing my footing.
Is this a poor quality? Or is being cozy home with a lover the point?
One reason I upped and moved to New York alone was to prove to myself I still independently could. Since I married, (again, not passing the buck to him) I unconsciously became lax. There seemed to be a fallback. A safety net. Yet, I wasn't doing much tight-roping to test it.
Now nearly eight months later and secure in the fact that I still have leaping powers, I am incredibly reluctant to fall back in the sick cyclic reliant ways of standing still just because he's here.
And now I'm questioning my every non-move.
But still had the feeling that you wanted to stay.
You knew it was right, wasn't wrong.
Still you knew you wouldn't be very long.
Go or stay, stay or go,
Start to go again and change your mind again." J Durante
Damn, I thought by my mid thirties, I would know who the hell I am and what the hell I wanted.
As we age, does confusion grow and spontaneity vanish?
Please say no.
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