Maybe you're like me
Maybe, like me, you feel lost in the sameness of existence. The repitition inherent in each day, each week, each year is extinguishing what's left of that life fire that once burned so bright.
Maybe, like me, you're looking over at your spouse and the life you've built together and wondering if this is all there is.
Maybe, like me, you look at your house and often see it as a gilded cage instead of a home that you love living in.
Maybe, like me, you look at your kids... and you're willing to put all of your regrets, fears, pains, wants and needs aside. Maybe, like me, you didn't want those kids, but now that they're here - you can't do anything that would hurt them. Maybe, like me, you worry that you'll secretly resent them for all of this. Maybe, like me, you'll never tell anyone about these feelings because there is no up-side in the telling.
Maybe, like me, you push all of your feelings down into a cold, lonely place. You bury it. You try to plant pretty things on that gravesite, but nothing will grow there. That patch of lifeless soil stares at you every day, every week, every year. And you slowly realize that it is becoming another item in the terrible sameness of existence.
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