Bob, our Maine Coon is lying by the fireplace, his grey fur is thick and fluffy and the kind of fur you would expect a big, magical feline like him to have. My mind is in another place entirely.
Sometimes the subject of my own existence clogs my mind and my own insecurities take over. I’m still struggling to love myself and find my reason. Sometimes there is a room full of people, like when I’m at work or at the supermarket, and I still feel so alone and like I don’t belong. When I come home I get to spend time with the family I’ve created. I get to feel confident in my own skin.
There is a man singing in my head, but sometimes Patsy Cline takes over. Her song “Crazy” always grips me with its loneliness and heartbreak. Never being good enough.
Poor Patsy! Barely even started her career before her deadly plane crash in 1963. I wonder if her songs really did reflect what was happening in her life, mirroring her broken heart.
Olivia struts by swinging her hips as she saunters, her tail bobbing in the air, into the dining room. She takes one look at Bob and seems disgusted. She doesn’t like him but tolerates him which is good enough in my book I guess. She’s such a sassy pants. Bob is coerced in sawdust from my lover’s woodshop in the room connected to the garage.
I have this heartbroken approach to love like Patsy had. When things are going well I think something horrible is about to happen or that my lover will leave me for someone else. I wish I could have been a friend to her in those lonely moments.
I would have told her that she was worth it and she wasn’t crazy for loving him because sometimes people wear masks to hide the truth of who they are. It’s not her fault she believed things would work out. It’s always okay to have hope or to be hopeful.
Jade is lying in front of the front door where the screen door is open and the cars are whipping past. She has her little paw tucked in and her other stretched out. She has a sleepy look in her emerald eyes.
Jade is very talkative and has a soft, rumbling pur. When I talk to her, she more often than not, will chirp back or meow in a peculiar way like she’s mimicking me. This is something I find incredibly endearing.
Sometimes I’ll sing to her and we’ll walk around the house, her meowing and running in front of me if I get too far away, and me singing Patsy Cline to her and telling her how sweet and special she is to me.
I would tell Patsy that she’s enough just being herself and that she didn’t need the love of a man to validate her existence.
These are the things I would tell myself if I only listened. But why do we sabotage ourselves like this? Why do we feel the need to withhold our hope? Why are we so scared of something that’s rightfully ours?
I’m not crazy for loving this man. I deserve him. I’m not crazy for expressing myself and trying to love myself. I deserve to be happy and so do you. I hope you find reasons to love yourself. Even if everyday you only find one thing that you appreciate. Hold onto that feeling. You’re the only one who is responsible for your happiness and the only one in charge of your life. Take accountability for your life. Be intentional. Be diligent in reaching your goals. Be your biggest cheerleader and if you can’t right now I will be that for you. Keep your head up buttercup. You’re on the right track. You just have to show up everyday.