I never understand why we play this game? Why we pretend in the world as much as we do? I am not talking about simple things like pretending to like people at your work...lets face it, you would never get through the day if you acted how you really felt about the people you work with. I am talking about with people we love and care for?
Why do we pretend with each other? If your in a marriage and you don't love them - why are you still there pretending? You know whether or not you love someone? You know whether or not you care? so why play the game? why cause further pain to anyone involved?
If your in a friendship and it isn't reciprocal why are you still there? You know whether or not you care about this person right? you know whether or not you are significant to them or if they are significant to you? You know if they are fake or if they are real? so why are you there?
If your family treats you ill and causes you pain - why do you allow it? You know they are your family but where is the rule that because of that it is okay that they make you feel heartbroken all the time? Why do you stay? Why do you show the love they cannot show you?
We seem to get caught up in titles and names and roles in our lives and let them overcome us. We allow these things to make nonsensical sense and overpower our right mind? We think because of these things that we "deserve" or must "put up" with self-inflicted pain - I say self-inflicted because in essence we are allowing it by "staying" in any of those particular scenarios.
We get lost in those titles as "mom", "wife", "daughter", "sister", "friend" "insert your title here" and lose who we are in the "great big world" - we forget our significance, our importance, our light gets dim and we just stand and watch it flicker into non-existence....and why? Because we believe we "owe" someone something or the world "is watching" and we "have to be a certain way"....Why?
God gave you this wonderful life - the light inside you - the people around you - the world - the knowledge and yet we are lost? We have been given a gift and we hold it in our hands and stare at it as if it is a foreign object and ponder the possibilities instead of living them? our pain and our grief from those self-inflicted wounds tear us up inside until we are nothing more than a shell of the gift he has bestowed upon us. And who is more wrong? us for allowing someone else to take our gift or them for willingly taking something so precious?
How do we wake up from this haze we have walked into? How do we turn around and say "I am worth more, I am enough" --- what do we do?
God you gave me my gift and I may not have known just how precious it is, I may have even had the idea that I would give this gift back in a unforgiving way....You gave me this gift and right now I don't know what to do with it? I am lost in the shadow of it....My light is dimming and the biggest fear I have is that I myself may be the one who extinguishes the flame...I am lost...I am scared...I am broken....and right now I could use a miracle....not even realizing my miracle may be that which I hold in my hand...my original gift, the gift that scares me the most...the gift that feels so heavy right this very minute.....
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
So I write...for it is all I know how to do....
I cannot sit back and pretend to be shocked but what I have in essence "allowed" to happen to me, now can I?
I cannot pretend that I did not know how it would all come to a head or how hurt I would become?
I cannot pretend that I did not play my part in the decomposition of these relationships...nor can I pretend that I did not know how to avoid the whole mess entirely...
I allowed the treatment to not only start but to continue. I allowed disrespect and disloyalty to become a "norm" in the way I allowed others to treat me.
I set a "low" bar when it came to myself. I didn't hold myself in the light to which I should have. I did not believe in myself, respect myself nor had the courage to admit that I was "good enough". So tell me then, if I did not expect "me" to honor "me" than really, how could I expect that from anyone else?
I was so worried about being accepted that I allowed the fear of "isolation" mold me into ways that I did not want to be.
I was so worried about being loved that I allowed others to use me, lie to me, hurt me, and slowly sink any piece that was left of who I used to be, who I thought I wanted to become and Who I truly was, so deep inside myself that it lye buried there like a tomb of those who have been forgotten.
A tomb that I laid out the coffin for, a tomb that I picked out the headstone for....A tomb that would become my inner prison for almost 40 years....
I invited the guilt of feeling "second best", I invited the shame of being "unlovable", I invited the pain that soon followed from allowing "them" to rob me of all that I had the potential to become.
So I write...I wrote then and I still write...it is one of the only ways I know how to reconnect and be at one with myself. The only way that I know how to unburden a lifetime of hurt and confusion. I write...because that is all I know to do.
I have allowed others to question my ability to make decisions, to trust my judgment, and to essentially live my life...
I have allowed others to make me feel less than nothing, inadequate in all that I do and blinded to the possibilities...
I have allowed others to use my fears of being unloved and unwanted and unaccepted against me in such a way that it has made me "hardened" and "cold" and "distant". I allowed them to use the things that scared me the worst to their advantage only because they knew the secret that I could not see then.
They knew that all this time...it was not really me...it was their own demons, their own inadequacies, their own inability to feel and be loved that caused their hatred and foul treatment of me.
You see, I was the child in some of these situations, I was a child yearning to have someone "catch me at the end of the slide", the child waiting "for someone to pick me up from school and ask and care about how my day went", I was the child who wanted to hold and be held all at the same time. I was that child that you just for some reason could not "love" in the way that I begged to be loved.
I was that sister, the one who follows you around and drives you crazy asking "stupid" questions just so you would talk to her. The sister that carried your books and cleaned your room just so you would give me ten minutes of your time. I was that kid that wanted nothing more than to have you look at her and say "good job" and truly mean it and be there when I fell to pick me up and tell me "it was all going to be okay".
I was that mother, that didn't know how to do everything right. The mother who was still learning and failing and was lost but loved you more than life itself. I was that mother that could stare at you forever and be in awe that you came from me and that "forever" we would be connected by this force that no one could ever break....but it did crack and well "forever" seems like it ended a millennia ago, and here I sit, and here I write.
I have also been that friend...who longed to be accepted and emulated....the one who stood in the corner pretending to be what they wanted me to be so that I could say they are my friends. I was that friend that gave until it hurt and lied to myself about what I got in return. I was that friend who allowed the pain to consume her until she herself became the bad friend.
I do not write this to say that nothing ever good happened to me, or that nothing good came from those around me...I am not wiring so someone will feel bad for me or tell me how horrible everyone else has been and that "they" will love me the way I am looking for, or they will be the one to make it all better.
I write because it is all I know how to do...all I know how to use to get through it all...It's all I know how to do to keep my sanity when the world is falling apart around me and all I hear are a thousand screams and realize they are all mine form deep down inside my soul.
I have always been afraid to just "say" things how I truly feel them, afraid I will hurt someone or that they will think less of me, or that if I said something in just the wrong way I could lose them all forever. But then I realized that they already felt I was not good enough, they tell me it in a thousand different tongues...they already projected their hurt and their struggles on my shoulders to bear for them so they had a place to bury their blame...they already left me so long ago that I was too blind to see or perhaps too naive to realize it truly was no more.
the begging to be loved, the moments lying in wait for approval, acceptance and moments spent waiting to hear their pride in the things I did for them that I rouged under the name of myself.
the years I have lost wondering what have I done, why I wasn't good enough....why couldn't "you" just love "me"....so I write...because it is all I know how to do....to get through the pain...to escape into a reality that only I was to dwell in.
I write because it is all I now how to do....to fight the urge to give up...to fight the urge to give in....to escape the breaking sound of my own heart.
I allowed others to shape me, to mold me, to break me...I allowed others to dictate, to distract, to hate me...I allowed others to control me, contort me, revolt me...I have allowed others to break me, to leave me, to rape me....I have allowed others to leave my tattered soul on the side of the road without a drop to drink in my death of me...without a kind word to send me off or a tear to bury me with...I have allowed this and I cannot be shocked or dismayed...I can only be disappointed in myself that I alone allowed the death of me...I allowed myself to get so low that I forgot to "care" for me or "love" me or "believe" in me....I allowed myself to die at the hands of others and then realize those hands were my own....I allowed myself to be buried by their burdens, their unhappiness, their weakness...I allowed myself to be taken form myself and lose myself in all of this.
My grandmother told me "if it hurts that bad, then it isn't love...because love isn't supposed to feel like that"....these words are the wisest words that have ever been uttered. Love isn't supposed to feel like that....love is patient - right? patient for whom? patient meaning being understanding and open and being "there" in that moment with someone....Love is kind - right? how so? kind meaning allowing others to grow and to flourish as you water the very foundation they are on and take pride in their ascent? Love is so many things and yet devoid of those things all at the same time....Love is never ending - but can be the end....
I cannot apologize for who my life has dictated I become, no more than a tree can apologize for decay and collapse that others have caused with their carelessness and ignorance. I cannot be anything more that what God has intended me to be and I have to realize that "who" I was then, "who" I am today and "whom" I am to continue to grow into, is "good enough" for me...I cannot continue to let others dictate my happiness, my life nor my choices...just as I cannot continue to "blame' others for my downfalls, my misgivings nor my mistakes...I will no longer lend my good will, my good faith nor my heart to those that's intention is to bring about malice, harm or mistrust.
I will not feel their guilt as my own, nor will I thrust my guilt upon them. I will learn to forgive them for their blind ignorance in their part of my tattered soul and begin to rebuild it on my own. I will learn how to trust in my own actions and stand behind them "unapologetic".. I will learn how to love myself even when the "world" deems me unworthy. I will learn how to say "no" and set limits...I will allow myself to be the gift, to feel the gift, to accept the gift that God has so graciously bestowed upon me - this gift he gave me of breath and body and soul. I will no longer allow anger, hurt, pain and restless dwell in my kingdom or ravage my body.
I will no longer give them the power to create doubt and breed uncertainty into my very lungs. I will no longer allow the abuse and misuse of my heart.
I cannot, so I write...because it is all I know how to do....it is the one place I find solace and peace...the one part that no one can take from me...the one place where I am brave and "they" don't preside over...and so I write - not for sympathy, not for praise...I write for sanity and release.
I write because it is all I know how to do....and the rest I have to let it lye by the side of the road with the shell of who I used to be....
I have left it there to remind "you" that with or without you by my side, in my corner...with or without you offering support or believing in me...I leave it there as a reminder that all this time I was courageous enough to ask the questions, to push the issue, to cry alone and to stand alone. It was there all along, buried deep inside me and I leave that shell of me as a reminder that today, this very day, I decided that it was no longer okay to accept things as they are but to expect and deserve more for me.
Today I leave that by the side of the road, do what you will with it...but I cannot be afraid of what you think of me, of what your 'idea" of what is right and what is wrong to loom over me...Even if I end up standing alone, I can no longer allow you to deem it appropriate to have never really loved me and yet expect the world from me....
what will you leave behind? maybe nothing at all? maybe there will never be a day where I won't be on my journey alone...but that is something that I just can't worry about anymore.....
so I write.....because it all I know how to do and because it is my salvation and captor all at the same time...so I write....
I cannot pretend that I did not know how it would all come to a head or how hurt I would become?
I cannot pretend that I did not play my part in the decomposition of these relationships...nor can I pretend that I did not know how to avoid the whole mess entirely...
I allowed the treatment to not only start but to continue. I allowed disrespect and disloyalty to become a "norm" in the way I allowed others to treat me.
I set a "low" bar when it came to myself. I didn't hold myself in the light to which I should have. I did not believe in myself, respect myself nor had the courage to admit that I was "good enough". So tell me then, if I did not expect "me" to honor "me" than really, how could I expect that from anyone else?
I was so worried about being accepted that I allowed the fear of "isolation" mold me into ways that I did not want to be.
I was so worried about being loved that I allowed others to use me, lie to me, hurt me, and slowly sink any piece that was left of who I used to be, who I thought I wanted to become and Who I truly was, so deep inside myself that it lye buried there like a tomb of those who have been forgotten.
A tomb that I laid out the coffin for, a tomb that I picked out the headstone for....A tomb that would become my inner prison for almost 40 years....
I invited the guilt of feeling "second best", I invited the shame of being "unlovable", I invited the pain that soon followed from allowing "them" to rob me of all that I had the potential to become.
So I write...I wrote then and I still write...it is one of the only ways I know how to reconnect and be at one with myself. The only way that I know how to unburden a lifetime of hurt and confusion. I write...because that is all I know to do.
I have allowed others to question my ability to make decisions, to trust my judgment, and to essentially live my life...
I have allowed others to make me feel less than nothing, inadequate in all that I do and blinded to the possibilities...
I have allowed others to use my fears of being unloved and unwanted and unaccepted against me in such a way that it has made me "hardened" and "cold" and "distant". I allowed them to use the things that scared me the worst to their advantage only because they knew the secret that I could not see then.
They knew that all this time...it was not really me...it was their own demons, their own inadequacies, their own inability to feel and be loved that caused their hatred and foul treatment of me.
You see, I was the child in some of these situations, I was a child yearning to have someone "catch me at the end of the slide", the child waiting "for someone to pick me up from school and ask and care about how my day went", I was the child who wanted to hold and be held all at the same time. I was that child that you just for some reason could not "love" in the way that I begged to be loved.
I was that sister, the one who follows you around and drives you crazy asking "stupid" questions just so you would talk to her. The sister that carried your books and cleaned your room just so you would give me ten minutes of your time. I was that kid that wanted nothing more than to have you look at her and say "good job" and truly mean it and be there when I fell to pick me up and tell me "it was all going to be okay".
I was that mother, that didn't know how to do everything right. The mother who was still learning and failing and was lost but loved you more than life itself. I was that mother that could stare at you forever and be in awe that you came from me and that "forever" we would be connected by this force that no one could ever break....but it did crack and well "forever" seems like it ended a millennia ago, and here I sit, and here I write.
I have also been that friend...who longed to be accepted and emulated....the one who stood in the corner pretending to be what they wanted me to be so that I could say they are my friends. I was that friend that gave until it hurt and lied to myself about what I got in return. I was that friend who allowed the pain to consume her until she herself became the bad friend.
I do not write this to say that nothing ever good happened to me, or that nothing good came from those around me...I am not wiring so someone will feel bad for me or tell me how horrible everyone else has been and that "they" will love me the way I am looking for, or they will be the one to make it all better.
I write because it is all I know how to do...all I know how to use to get through it all...It's all I know how to do to keep my sanity when the world is falling apart around me and all I hear are a thousand screams and realize they are all mine form deep down inside my soul.
I have always been afraid to just "say" things how I truly feel them, afraid I will hurt someone or that they will think less of me, or that if I said something in just the wrong way I could lose them all forever. But then I realized that they already felt I was not good enough, they tell me it in a thousand different tongues...they already projected their hurt and their struggles on my shoulders to bear for them so they had a place to bury their blame...they already left me so long ago that I was too blind to see or perhaps too naive to realize it truly was no more.
the begging to be loved, the moments lying in wait for approval, acceptance and moments spent waiting to hear their pride in the things I did for them that I rouged under the name of myself.
the years I have lost wondering what have I done, why I wasn't good enough....why couldn't "you" just love "me"....so I write...because it is all I know how to do....to get through the pain...to escape into a reality that only I was to dwell in.
I write because it is all I now how to do....to fight the urge to give up...to fight the urge to give in....to escape the breaking sound of my own heart.
I allowed others to shape me, to mold me, to break me...I allowed others to dictate, to distract, to hate me...I allowed others to control me, contort me, revolt me...I have allowed others to break me, to leave me, to rape me....I have allowed others to leave my tattered soul on the side of the road without a drop to drink in my death of me...without a kind word to send me off or a tear to bury me with...I have allowed this and I cannot be shocked or dismayed...I can only be disappointed in myself that I alone allowed the death of me...I allowed myself to get so low that I forgot to "care" for me or "love" me or "believe" in me....I allowed myself to die at the hands of others and then realize those hands were my own....I allowed myself to be buried by their burdens, their unhappiness, their weakness...I allowed myself to be taken form myself and lose myself in all of this.
My grandmother told me "if it hurts that bad, then it isn't love...because love isn't supposed to feel like that"....these words are the wisest words that have ever been uttered. Love isn't supposed to feel like that....love is patient - right? patient for whom? patient meaning being understanding and open and being "there" in that moment with someone....Love is kind - right? how so? kind meaning allowing others to grow and to flourish as you water the very foundation they are on and take pride in their ascent? Love is so many things and yet devoid of those things all at the same time....Love is never ending - but can be the end....
I cannot apologize for who my life has dictated I become, no more than a tree can apologize for decay and collapse that others have caused with their carelessness and ignorance. I cannot be anything more that what God has intended me to be and I have to realize that "who" I was then, "who" I am today and "whom" I am to continue to grow into, is "good enough" for me...I cannot continue to let others dictate my happiness, my life nor my choices...just as I cannot continue to "blame' others for my downfalls, my misgivings nor my mistakes...I will no longer lend my good will, my good faith nor my heart to those that's intention is to bring about malice, harm or mistrust.
I will not feel their guilt as my own, nor will I thrust my guilt upon them. I will learn to forgive them for their blind ignorance in their part of my tattered soul and begin to rebuild it on my own. I will learn how to trust in my own actions and stand behind them "unapologetic".. I will learn how to love myself even when the "world" deems me unworthy. I will learn how to say "no" and set limits...I will allow myself to be the gift, to feel the gift, to accept the gift that God has so graciously bestowed upon me - this gift he gave me of breath and body and soul. I will no longer allow anger, hurt, pain and restless dwell in my kingdom or ravage my body.
I will no longer give them the power to create doubt and breed uncertainty into my very lungs. I will no longer allow the abuse and misuse of my heart.
I cannot, so I write...because it is all I know how to do....it is the one place I find solace and peace...the one part that no one can take from me...the one place where I am brave and "they" don't preside over...and so I write - not for sympathy, not for praise...I write for sanity and release.
I write because it is all I know how to do....and the rest I have to let it lye by the side of the road with the shell of who I used to be....
I have left it there to remind "you" that with or without you by my side, in my corner...with or without you offering support or believing in me...I leave it there as a reminder that all this time I was courageous enough to ask the questions, to push the issue, to cry alone and to stand alone. It was there all along, buried deep inside me and I leave that shell of me as a reminder that today, this very day, I decided that it was no longer okay to accept things as they are but to expect and deserve more for me.
Today I leave that by the side of the road, do what you will with it...but I cannot be afraid of what you think of me, of what your 'idea" of what is right and what is wrong to loom over me...Even if I end up standing alone, I can no longer allow you to deem it appropriate to have never really loved me and yet expect the world from me....
what will you leave behind? maybe nothing at all? maybe there will never be a day where I won't be on my journey alone...but that is something that I just can't worry about anymore.....
so I write.....because it all I know how to do and because it is my salvation and captor all at the same time...so I write....
Monday, February 22, 2016
The 50/50 Divide
A marriage is supposed to be 50/50 right? Someone once told me that a marriage is 70/40 depending on the day? Even though I no longer speak to this person (that's another story), I am finding that more and more each day - this is so ABSOLUTELY true!
50/50 that's simple division right? Division - the taking of a whole and "separating" it out?
50/50, that's a Divorce! Think about it...in a Divorce a partner (usually the wife) asks for half, 50/50. Half the money, half the assets, half of whatever they can get? so how can a marriage (a union) be the same?
I find myself constantly battling (mostly internally, since no one seems to hear me) the demon of "equality". Not equality in voting, equality in jobs - I mean just simple equal share of cleaning, taking care of the kids, maybe a pet or two and just your run of the mill "pitching in" before I "pitch a fit" type stuff. Am I wrong? Am I the only one who fights this demon?
Don't get me wrong - the hubby helps out. It just seems he helps out more after I have to have some type of mental breakdown or be on the verge of losing of my mind. I have had to keep a jar with notes in it reminding me that "Yes he does do things, that I need to pay attention to".
With this being said - Today I felt my "anger" monster coming up and rearing its ugly head for it's Broadway Review. You know the typical scene, you come home from work (tired and annoyed - just one of those days), hubby's day off (well mine anyway), dishes from last night are still in the sink, 9 year old running around in his boxers with the food he was supposed to eat being eaten by the cat, homework thrown all over the desk but it's not done...22 year old daughter lying in "deaths grip" or so she says, hanging off a chair in dramatic poise, laundry in both the dryer and the washer....while said hubby is on the couch playing a video game? He is such a sexy beast!
Do you:
A: Freak the hell out and become tomorrow's headline "Husband found with playstation controller shoved......" or
B: Curl up in a ball in the corner staring blankly out in the open whilst chanting "I'm a lucky girl"....or
C. Just do it all yourself?
Well tonight C was the route I took....This is how the night played out...
Mom (in case you were wondering, that is me)
Mom comes home finds "hot mess" everywhere...Mom starts dinner, gives 9 year old lecture on why he did not tell the truth about his assignment that the teacher emailed mom about...listens to 9 years old rendition of a respectable reason for lying with the undying promises to never do it again...
Mom sends child off to do homework...Mom goes and finishes dinner...Mom finally changes clothes...Mom pays attention to 22 year old daughter (still in deaths grip) and gives her best Dr. Mom she could....Mom serves dinner....Mom does get to eat dinner...Mom reads book to child....gives oldest child meds...Mom makes sure everyone is off to bed (Hubby needed no prodding for this one)...Mom goes and cleans kitchen, does dishes, preps her lunch for tomorrow (as mom will always be on a diet)...Mom finds laundry in both washer/dryer and attends to it...Mom walks past sleeping dad and contemplates the things she would do if she would not be arrested...Then Mom writes blog to keep her from losing her mind!!!!!!
So why I am driving you crazy with all of this? Because I found myself thinking about what my non-friend told me years and years ago...Marriage is not 50/50 nor should it be...there are going to be days where it is 70/30, 60/40 and 80/20 but 50/50 it will never be...Remember 50/50 is for divorce - division and separation. You will have days where you pull more weight and there will be days he will. We are not capable of being absolutely even on any given day.. We are affected by our environment, how work was, how we are feeling, and just life in general. We are human, we forget things (even with the best of intentions), we procrastinate, we stall and we mean well all at the same time.
The next time your "anger monster" is up for their debut, remind yourself that being part of a relationship is give and take but it's okay that it is not split straight down the middle - a split is not a union!
Now off you go! Tomorrow is yet another day to keep from strangling your family, I mean hugging them ever so tightly!
50/50 that's simple division right? Division - the taking of a whole and "separating" it out?
50/50, that's a Divorce! Think about it...in a Divorce a partner (usually the wife) asks for half, 50/50. Half the money, half the assets, half of whatever they can get? so how can a marriage (a union) be the same?
I find myself constantly battling (mostly internally, since no one seems to hear me) the demon of "equality". Not equality in voting, equality in jobs - I mean just simple equal share of cleaning, taking care of the kids, maybe a pet or two and just your run of the mill "pitching in" before I "pitch a fit" type stuff. Am I wrong? Am I the only one who fights this demon?
Don't get me wrong - the hubby helps out. It just seems he helps out more after I have to have some type of mental breakdown or be on the verge of losing of my mind. I have had to keep a jar with notes in it reminding me that "Yes he does do things, that I need to pay attention to".
With this being said - Today I felt my "anger" monster coming up and rearing its ugly head for it's Broadway Review. You know the typical scene, you come home from work (tired and annoyed - just one of those days), hubby's day off (well mine anyway), dishes from last night are still in the sink, 9 year old running around in his boxers with the food he was supposed to eat being eaten by the cat, homework thrown all over the desk but it's not done...22 year old daughter lying in "deaths grip" or so she says, hanging off a chair in dramatic poise, laundry in both the dryer and the washer....while said hubby is on the couch playing a video game? He is such a sexy beast!
Do you:
A: Freak the hell out and become tomorrow's headline "Husband found with playstation controller shoved......" or
B: Curl up in a ball in the corner staring blankly out in the open whilst chanting "I'm a lucky girl"....or
C. Just do it all yourself?
Well tonight C was the route I took....This is how the night played out...
Mom (in case you were wondering, that is me)
Mom comes home finds "hot mess" everywhere...Mom starts dinner, gives 9 year old lecture on why he did not tell the truth about his assignment that the teacher emailed mom about...listens to 9 years old rendition of a respectable reason for lying with the undying promises to never do it again...
Mom sends child off to do homework...Mom goes and finishes dinner...Mom finally changes clothes...Mom pays attention to 22 year old daughter (still in deaths grip) and gives her best Dr. Mom she could....Mom serves dinner....Mom does get to eat dinner...Mom reads book to child....gives oldest child meds...Mom makes sure everyone is off to bed (Hubby needed no prodding for this one)...Mom goes and cleans kitchen, does dishes, preps her lunch for tomorrow (as mom will always be on a diet)...Mom finds laundry in both washer/dryer and attends to it...Mom walks past sleeping dad and contemplates the things she would do if she would not be arrested...Then Mom writes blog to keep her from losing her mind!!!!!!
So why I am driving you crazy with all of this? Because I found myself thinking about what my non-friend told me years and years ago...Marriage is not 50/50 nor should it be...there are going to be days where it is 70/30, 60/40 and 80/20 but 50/50 it will never be...Remember 50/50 is for divorce - division and separation. You will have days where you pull more weight and there will be days he will. We are not capable of being absolutely even on any given day.. We are affected by our environment, how work was, how we are feeling, and just life in general. We are human, we forget things (even with the best of intentions), we procrastinate, we stall and we mean well all at the same time.
The next time your "anger monster" is up for their debut, remind yourself that being part of a relationship is give and take but it's okay that it is not split straight down the middle - a split is not a union!
Now off you go! Tomorrow is yet another day to keep from strangling your family, I mean hugging them ever so tightly!
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