Destiny is a comfortable bitch

The anticipation has been building for months, not to mention the heated debates, sleepless nights, and general unrest that comes along with any major life decision. It was virtually unbearable at times.  Gut wrenching.  All consuming.  Mentally depleting.  We came at it from every angle possible.  The visual aids were detailed and abundant and I’m pretty sure I even did simple math in my head at one point.

The end result was a mutually agreed upon spousal decision. We were ready.

We knew what we were up against, but the preparation involved was fool proof. We entered the building together more determined than we have ever been in our entire lives as a cohesive unit.  We would be tested, that much was certain.  An impromptu side hug shoulder squeeze set everything into motion.  “Get in and get out. Let’s do this.”

Within nanoseconds we spotted that slippery bastard heading straight for us, but expected nothing less. “Don’t mention the kids,” I said. “They have nothing to do with this.”

It should have been easy. We were living the dream, simply going through the motions, awaiting the inevitable moment to drive off into the sunset with a newfound freedom, coolness, and slick factor that has been lost on us for all these years. It’s been so incredibly long.

And then it happened. We got too cocky.  It’s all a blur, but it definitely happened, and now we are left with nothing but hindsight and lingering self-doubt.

Why did we invite him into our bubble of dreams? We didn’t need and/or ask for a demonstration.  Yet there that little man-child sat way back in the distance, fumbling around like an idiot trying to prove how “comfy” he was as he choked his knees down his throat before trying to verbally speak his extremely implausible point, “See?”

I silently screamed, “Stay focused!”

But I couldn’t. He was so physically small.  My mothering instinct took over almost immediately and I frantically moved forward in an effort that I’m 100% sure saved his life.  He couldn’t breathe!

This wasn’t supposed to happen!

“Get out,” I mumbled.

We were tricked. They shouldn’t have been sitting next to each other.  They are not friends.  They have absolutely nothing in common.  Yet there it was, strategically placed for the weak to admire and adore in secret denial next to its sexy more sophisticated second cousin thrice removed.  A seductress in plain clothing, opening its doors ever so slightly, tempting us to take a perverse glimpse from our periphery and admire it’s unexceptional grandeur, if only for a moment.

Imagine an ocean of space, that if you could see beyond (which you can’t), would simply yield more goddamn space.

It shouldn’t have been so hard. We are weak human beings, completely incompetent of following through with a simple step by step plan.  Furthermore, I went against the advice of some of my nearest and dearest friends.  What was I thinking?  I never think for myself!  Alas, I did, and now the world as I know it has forever changed.  There is no turning back.  Back room deals were made.  Money has changed hands.  Dear God, I think I signed something!

In the end, it was my decision and I take full responsibility.  I don’t understand it, but I refuse to judge myself as a result.  There is no substitute for space.  Period.  Nor does it matter that not one of my three children plays soccer and/or has any small interest in pursuing it in the future whatsoever.  My identity has been perpetually solidified and I am strangely at peace.  While I’m not particularly proud of myself, I am surprisingly just okay with admitting that we checked what little was left of our preexisting phatness at the door for all eternity and bought another (insert expletive of choice here) minivan.

It’s white like heaven and floats on the road like a cloud in the sky. And I will never be cool again.

 

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