I have time to write. A lot to write about. But seemingly no where to put it.
Am I 37? With a husband and two kids? Living the.... classic (?) life in my hometown? Nice home? Good job? What I'm 'supposed' to have?
This is my life.
But is it me?
It certainly isn't the me I thought I'd be. How many times did Di say, "you can't tie her down"... to whatever boy I was stringing along?
I don't think 'questioning' my life is a sign of a failure or a flaw....
But is it 'safe'? I mean, the 'other life'--can seem all too appealing at times. Wouldn't it be... safer to simply go about my daily routine I've created for myself... and just be THIS person?
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