What is Silent Sunday?
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You know, the weirdest and yet loveliest thing right now, is being a wedding photographer, and being in UTTER AWE of people… And having amazing people admiring the things that I (ME!) do.
It’s not like a “OMFG I AM SO AMAZING!!!!!11!!!1!1!!!!” thing, it’s more like, “WOW, I am so humbled to be considered good enough to be seen amongst these awesome people…” kinda thing.
I don’t see myself as amazing, I don’t see myself as “being up there” (wherever “there” is), I just see me, doing what I love, and being appreciated and supported by awesome people of all levels.
If anyone had told me to brace myself for this bit of this rather crazy journey, I think I would have laughed at them a little bit and carried on my little merry old way.
*Laughs and carries on my little merry old way*
It’s more of a ponderingment, than a question.
The Mr and I are still in a weird place; not quite separated, not near divorce, still good friends, still in the same house. But not a day goes by when I wonder why I’m still here. I ask myself all manner of questions on a regular basis, and my answers change every time.
I know what I do want, but I’m not sure if it’s obtainable. I’m kind of stuck in this soul-sucking, love-destroying, life-killing limbo. Non-religious purgatory, if you will.
The thing is, I’ve lived the sort of life where I, uh, need to LIVE a life. I can’t deal with pissing every single day away, not doing anything. Not taking chances, not playing with risks, not seizing opportunities. I can’t sit around day after day in the same mundane shitty-crap routine, feeling like a complete waste of space. There’s so much out there in the whole world to enjoy (hell, there’s so much just on my doorstep, I’m certain), and I’d like to be a part of it.
More importantly, I had hoped, I could be a part of it with a partner.
I wonder how I got this far without realising what was happening.
When he told his mother the news about my decision last year, she naturally didn’t respond well. She gave me a card, which (I can’t remember the words exactly because rage can really blind a person) pretty much told me that, if I was going to go out there looking for something better, looking for happiness, then I most definitely wasn’t going to find it.
Which makes me think.
Is this it, then? Is this as good as life gets? Feeling trapped in a relationship where my “partner” is pretty much dead? Doesn’t want to live a life? Is pretty much done with everything, has given up on exploring bigger and better things, and would prefer to explore the various films on Apple TV, or what’s recorded Tivo? Am I destined to play “The Housewife”, sitting at home doing my knitting/playing Clash of Clans/lurking on Facebook and twitter, in order to find my own little world? They work for surprisingly good distractions. But they’re also lonely as hell.
I’m very conscious that it takes two of us to make this work. But you know what? I’m bloody tired. Trying to turn Titanic by blowing on it is actually quite hard, you know? I wouldn’t say impossible, but that’s probably the stubborn talking. I constantly wonder if there’s more I should be doing. And if there is, what should I be doing. Most people tell me I should stop over-thinking things (for the record, I am really OVER people telling me to stop over thinking. Hey, why don’t you stop thinking about a blue car? Oh wait, did you just think about a blue car? Huh…) but surely if non one is thinking, then it’s a world of dead people. People who aren’t feeling anything. People who have come to accept the inevitable, as have I, but are choosing to lie down and do fuck all until the inevitable arrives. That, to me, is pretty fucking dull.
I’ve accepted the various possible and inevitable outcomes. Death, divorce, stay together, whatever. But I can’t just sit on my ass and do nothing until any of those conclusions arrive. I am bored out of my mind. I want to LIVE. And it would have been really nice to have the person who promised to be my partner come join me in living. Instead, I feel like I’m trying to hop and skip, but feel guilty every time my feet leave the floor.
“So leave, then! Get out and go live the life you want!”
Yeah if only that were so easy. It’s never that easy. For so many reasons. (It’s a really shitty thing to assume that you know everything about someone else’s relationship. Willing to bet you know wayyyyy less than you think.) So for now, I seem to be here trying to make a dead person be alive. It’s an extreme way to describe it, but that is what it feels like. And that makes me sad. Maybe having spent so much of my life trying not to die, to not take my own life in whatever way, I’m now trying to show someone else the importance of seeing both sides of the fence.
We all have choices. We can be alive, or we can be dead.
But it pains me that we can’t shove someone toward a decision. It pisses me off that no matter how much kicking and screaming, or gentle talking, or threatening actions, or staying silent, and all the things in between, we can’t push someone into seeing that living, feeling, being alive, is way better than being an empty shell. It’s way better than death.