Fear

We talk. Of finances. Bills. Loans. Interest rates. 401k.

Fear wells up in me and spills silently down my face.

Why? Why the fear at this, I who am generally not fearful?

I read something about someones's husband who's life is one long story of his love for her. She feels it. She knows it, (despite how undeserved she feels), blah blah blah. And my fear spills more.

It is then that it dawns on me, why.

Because I fear he will leave.

Really? That's what I feel? I'm surprised by this.

But maybe that's been too close to the surface of reality. (Not just with him. Others too. People. But yes with him. And Him.) And marriage and life has ups and challenges and pulling and ripping and sometimes the wounds are a bit jagged, not nicely healed. And it's funny how little things can stick and it makes me wonder how badly I'm screwing up my kids, with all the little things.

Strange to me to feel fear. And fear at losing a future. Something that hasn't happened yet. Stupid.

And then I'm saddened by the fact that I don't feel that security with him. My one romantic notion that hasn't died yet that someone loves me so much it hurts them and fills them and overflows them. Because it's not "idealistic" or "romantic" at all. It really happens and why not me. sigh. pointless.

This is why I can't watch The Notebook.

Why I don't read this blog too often.

It just hits some raw place in me that I'd rather keep closed. Some, I'd rather not go there, place.

And he too has his own issues and fears and history, and he loves me and shows it and I know it and see it and it's not that, just that I have insecurities. And stress. Rationally I know it's dumb, but feelings aren't always rational and the irrational side of me sometimes sticks out, I guess. And something today just triggered some nerve. And so I felt fear.