Never will I ever…


I’ll admit, I’ve never played “Never have I ever…” I’m sure I’d be the last sober person. Not that I’m any angel or saint—I just haven’t acted on a lot of my impulses. Not that I didn’t have any impulses when I was young—I did—and sometimes followed them. At times I was even “brazen.” But I also knew when to be cautious. After all, getting caught wouldn’t be any fun!

Maybe after some of my life experiences, I became too practical for impulsivity. Maybe I look at things from too many sides before acting. I find myself looking at all possibilities and working out a plan for each, so that there are no surprises. Or second-guessing myself, and backing out, only to regret it later.

As I see the years slip by, I’ve started to think about all the things I’ll most likely never do or have. It makes me a little sad, but some things can’t be changed. And some can. We’ll see.

I’ll never know what it’s like to love and marry one man for all my life. To marry someone when we are young and happily grow old together. To give my heart to someone who truly wants it, and gives his to me in return. To be joyous at becoming pregnant, and raise children with the man I love.

I’ll never have a 50th wedding anniversary—or likely even a 20th—if I ever have another at all. I’ll never be a good example of marriage to my son. I am, however, a wonderful example of what NOT to do.

I’ll likely never see Paris with someone I love. I’ll never know the romance of the most famously romantic city in the world, or look over the city from the Eiffel Tower, or spend hours lost in museums looking at the world’s most famous paintings.

I’ll likely never watch the sun set in Italy after a day of seeing famous sculptures and art, or wade through the flooded streets of Venice, or kiss my love in a gondola beneath the Bridge of Sighs. I’ll never have another chance to picnic on a mountain in Switzerland.

It’s not likely I’ll ever receive love letters again. Or write them.

I am holding out hope that someday I will still have a house; a home—where my heart can feel at peace.

Tell me what you think.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s