Lackluster

I just haven’t felt the passion to write lately, which definitely shows in what I’ve written. To me, it seems to fall flat—so I don’t write.

But part of the lack of writing seems to be the idea that life is lived online. My life is active and lived mainly off this blog. If you haven’t received a phone call or email, you don’t know what jobs I’ve had since moving here. You don’t know why I quit one job and now have two others. You don’t know how my life with my husband is going nor why I’m so upset with some people I can barely contain myself from venting here.

You might know that I’m a loyal person and that I hate seeing friends and family get hurt. In fact, I’ve probably written about that. But you don’t know how hurt I actually get when my loved ones are put in tough positions. When they are hit over the head with stupidity and pain.

But even that passion, the passion of anger and outrage, cannot come across here. I cannot vent outward because it’s blowing smoke toward the sky. Those involved need to know my feelings more so than you, right? But for reasons outside myself, I hold onto it and don’t vomit words on the causes of such hurt.

What do you really know about me, then? The woman who has lived on this blog and my other one, where this all started? Do you know what is written behind the lines, what is deleted and re-thought? What is between the words I’m really saying?

I can’t blame you for that because this—this is not the totality of being, this blog isn’t. We should all know and realize this to be true.

So why do so many think that this blog is me? That my husband’s blog is…him?

If so, we’re pretty sparse creatures.

And with so much passion living outright in our daily lives, the lackluster bits of lint found here are incomparable with who we are daily.

We love fiercely and feel pain keenly, but we are not about to become just words on a page to please anyone. We are—and always will remain—real, true, and alive in this world. To be less, to live within the confines some wish to put us in would become more of the world than I wish to be.