Hopeless

There are days that are pretty good, even though they're hard. Days that I have hope for the future. There are different kinds of hope, too. On a great day I look forward to my life, knowing that I'll survive this. When I look forward to going back to work and meeting new people. I'm excited to date and one day meet a new man, a better man, that I can love. And who'll love me back the way I deserve. And I hope Thomas never wants to come back because I know I can do better. I also know that if he ever does want me back I won't be able to say no. So I hope he never wants to. On those days the future seems so bright! I can see happiness again.

Then there are the days I hope he'll realize what he's lost and want to work it out. That this new and "improved" version of the man I love will have vanished and he'll be his old self again. And we'll talk it out and I'll tell him no but mean yes. And he'll beg, and tell me how much he loves me and everything will magically go back to the way they used to be. With a few modifications of course, like me being strong again, and him being more understanding. Of course, I would still go back to work but only part time for the fun of it. The kids will be happy again, without that underlying anger. These days... They hurt like hell because I'm pretty sure that's never going to happen. The hope is always there, in the hidden parts of my heart, and my mind sees the reality of the situation. But I still hope.

The really bad days are the ones completely without hope. I know Thomas is never coming back. I can see now that he wasn't as blissfully happy I was all those years. I know that he's done with me, and I'm pretty sure he's seeing someone else now. No one will tell me that he is, maybe they don't even know. But I feel like he is. The point is I know it's over and it's time to move on. To let go of the hope. That only leaves me hopeless, though.

I don't want to go back to work. I really don't. I don't want to leave the kids, but it's more than that. I don't want to have to get up early and get all of us ready, to go work forty or more hours per week and still come home and have all this work to do. Right now, if I don't feel like doing anything I really don't have to. Except for all the normal stuff with the kids. I've gotten a little lazy over the last couple of years.

And what's the point of ever dating again? Just to have a space filler? I don't want that but I don't want to love this way again either. How do you love less, though? It seems so pointless and impossible. Everything I do, I do it all the way. So I can take the chance, stand on the edge of the cliff, but never have the courage to jump again? I have no faith in anything anymore. I'm an empty shell. I love my kids, deeply, but I know one day they'll grow up and the love they have for me won't be as important to them. I can accept that, but I can't ever accept losing my heart again.

I'm utterly and completely devoid of hope today. Even thinking about the kids and my hopes for them isn't lifting me back up. There's just blankness. Blackness.

I have to do something to stop this. I really don't know what, though. I could go for therapy and maybe that would help. Who knows. But how can I when I can't even get help with the kids? I really don't want an anti-depressant. I can do this. I know it! It just takes time and sometimes I forget it's only been a month. And four days.

I want to write funny and happy posts again. I'm so tired of myself right now.