Really Deep Pathetic Thoughts

I don't spend my days thinking about where I could be, what I could be doing, but every once in a while, resentment creeps into my thoughts.
If I wasn't a mother, I could walk on the pavement alone, at my own pace.
I could stand in a long line undisturbed.
My purse would be well-organized.
I could pack my books and be in India next week, holed up in a tiny room overlooking elephants, a market, a river.
For as long as I liked, I could be stationary and silent. My bedroom could be my cocoon again.

But as a mother, I am never alone.
In those moments when I fear entering a room by myself, I have a shadow.
Someday my fridge will be cluttered with finger painted pictures of trees, houses, spiky-haired people.
I get four or five open-mouthed kisses a day.
Awkward moments of quiet are filled with roars of laughter.
I may not be able to pick up and travel, but I like to think motherhood keeps me practical. I probably won't ever waste thousands of dollars on an impulsive trip to see Ganga Ma.

I should feel grateful. I should feel overwhelmed with love.
I should stop "should"-ing on myself.
There are some things I can't seem to reconcile.
It's sad to shave your legs when no one will touch them but you.
And to send my baby on a sleepover with her grandparents brings up the question: what on earth would I do with myself? Go to bed early, alone?

I feel like most of the time I don't have anyone to say these things to. That's why I post them to the anonymous huddles, because I feel that somehow if they are released, they can finally be forgotten.

Tonight I went to a more private reunion of high school friends, and felt like I needed to reintroduce myself as someone entirely new. I know we all have that tendency to be paranoid that every person around us is contemplating our very selves, but tonight I wanted to address that. I wanted to list my new interests, my new mission statements, my new thoughts and fears, stand up like a comedian and tell them my life story since we last saw each other.

I saw lots of happiness, lots of settled people planning families, dates, conversations. I saw in the eyes of my friends who are still single that glimmer of spontaneity, and I was jealous that they could choose to drive home tonight... or choose to stay out until morning.

I hate feeling weak. I detest it, and avoid it at all costs. I will literally lie to myself to feel strength when I know I'm lacking. I need to work on saying, "Yes, I need someone. I'm lonely. I'm incomplete. I deserve someone to trust."

For the first time in months, I clicked my profile to "online" on Facebook. But no one was available to chat. Finley was talking in her sleep, though.

What does that mean?

Thank you for reading.