This is probably the most poignant Independence Day I’ve ever experienced….at least on a metaphoric level. I’m struggling now to acquire my own independence and I’m reminded that on July 4th we did not actually win our independence, we just declared it, dammit. We shouted that we wanted out, wanted to be let go, wanted to be free of whatever burdens are making both sides terribly unhappy. And there is something bold about just setting forth with the decision to find some freedom for self governing, because there really is no coming back from that commitment to break free, from that declaration of desire.
Thankfully, the situation between Phillip and I isn’t at a wartime level. No things are quite civil….but, decidedly uncomfortable. Our language has changed. We speak more candidly, more freely, now that we don’t fear stepping on our marriage….and that honest way of speaking can be brutal. Don’t get me wrong, I’m just as guilty of being as snarky as he is. Our deepest, unresolved issue is my moving out. Sometimes either one of us will feel that it’s happening too fast, or as we’ve both decided lately, not happening fast enough.
We are both truly ready to rip off quite a few Band-Aids, scream, then sigh with great relief that the pain is over.
So, much like the Colonies on this infamous day, I’ve already decided that I want my future to be free, to be my own, to tend to as I please. Much like the founding fathers, I have no idea how I’m going to make it happen, but I will do my best to proceed with as much ambition and hope as I can find, because there is so much to gain!
…or much like the Continental Congress, I can beg France for a loan….
It’ll be dark soon and the fireworks will begin. Bold, bright, and shrieking through the night, they’ll remind me of the many rockets of desire I’m blasting into the Universe.
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