So it wasn’t long after the divorce that my mother remarried. She needed someone I guess. Being alone is a scary thing, especially when you realize you have just been alone for the past 12 years. It is not that my dad didn’t love her, it’s just that I guess he didn’t know how to. It’s hard to determine what all went on between the two of them since it was never discussed, but I have come to a greater understanding  over time of what it means to love and be loved.

Part of the deal I guess was that my father wasn’t contributing to the goals of my mother. It’s difficult to stay on the same page when both people are traveling in different directions. I guess that explains a bit about why it’s been hard for me to commit to a long term relationship. I see the direction of the girl and know what I want to give her, provide for her, not just in terms of monetary value, but in terms of a loving husband who is traveling on the same road she is and for the same purpose. I often find myself sitting down on the side of the road and exploring the nearby woods. I don’t want to give that to my future wife.

So, why this window into my soul you ask? Well, perhaps it’s just a little way for me to take survey of my life and see if I’m on track to be where I was hoping to be when I was younger. When I was younger I wanted to become a great artist. I would watch my older brother at his drawing table sketch in amazing detail things around him. The world seemed different through his eyes and I wanted to become like him.

After a short run with the art through my high school years I never really kept up with that goal I had. But another dream blossomed after seeing many sit down at a piano and create music that soothed and healed the soul. It was then that the best pianist was going to be my mother’s son. I jumped into piano and when practice became a burden I stopped, another detour in the woods. So my mother removed me from lessons and every now and then I sit down to wonder, what might have been.

The guitar soon took precedence as the dream of choice. I had friends in a band and I craved the collaboration and enjoyment they seemed to have. It was my senior year of high school that I got my first guitar and played it night and day. I largely taught myself with the help of a few books and while it was enjoyable it too became boring to practice seriously enough to go where I wanted so I went back to the drawing board.

I even pursued briefly the idea of becoming a doctor, but again, life got in the way again. There is still a small part of me that yearns to carry on what my grandmother started way back when she met my grandfather. She was a nurse. Can I follow in her footsteps? Can I get my online nursing degree? I am not sure what the future holds, but I do know that if I don’t decide and persist, the dream of entering the medical profession may end up on the side of the road like many of the others.

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