Truths and Consequences

By and large, I've been feeling better these days.  I'm starting to feel a lot stronger and more comfortable in my own skin again.  It's safe to say that the good days are far outweighing the bad now.  And for this I'm grateful.  I truly am.

But there's something that's started to nag at me.  Something rather unexpected that I'm not sure how to deal with.  I guess I shouldn't really be surprised by it, though.

The topic is children.  I can't say the actual words, "I regret not having them with my ex".  I didn't want children with my ex and I understand why now.  There are actually a lot of reasons why...most of which I don't want to get into here.  But I will say that had we had children, he still would have left....which would have been so much more traumatic than what it already was.  The mere idea of putting children through that makes me queasy even now.  So ultimately, I'm glad we didn't.  Yet.....

I don't know what to say.  My priorities were completely rebooted over the last year.  My definitions of happiness have changed.  When you're stripped of everything you hold dear, you walk away a different person.  And I am most definitely different than who I used to be. 

I can't call what I'm feeling regret.  Maybe it's a craving.  Or an understanding that who I was once is long gone and who I am now involves wanting different things than I once did.  That the things I now want are both simpler and more complicated. 

I remember having a conversation with someone about this last summer.  I had said that having children with my ex hadn't been something I wanted.  Their response was that I wasn't meant to have children with him and that chances are, the person I'm actually meant to be with is the person I will want children with.  I wasn't sure how to feel about that at the time it was said.  I agree with it now, though.

That's the truth of what I'm feeling these days.  The consequences of these realizations?  My age.  It may be too late.  I might be too old to have this. This flits through my mind several times a day now.  Maybe I'm jumping the gun on this.  Maybe it isn't too late.  But it's most definitely a concern.

This isn't meant to be a pitying post or melodramatic in any way.  I wouldn't say I'm feeling sorry for myself.  It's just...profound.  That's the only word I have for it right now.  Profound.

I wish life was more predictable.