Seriously.

I'm a broken person. I know that. Sometimes though, life distracts me from that fact. It's a welcome distraction. On occasion, however, that realization it broadcasts in a way that is so out-of-the-blue. So jolting-- that you almost don't know how to respond to yourself.

Matt and I were driving home from Disneyland Sunday night. We were talking about a little traffic incident we experienced on the way to LA 3 nights prior. Car got hurt, but we were fine, thankfully. My mind started going to what would have happened if we weren't "fine". What if we had been hurt? Now I'm a vocal person. I typically don't have much of a problem saying what I feel/think. I do have a very private side. A side my husband rarely sees. A side that doesn't like being comforted when it's grieving-- that doesn't like to go to the "what ifs" because it's afraid of the answer. A side of silence. Sometimes I feel like I'm trapped within myself. People expect me to be bubbly, and happy. People expect me to joke around.

I don't want to let anyone down. I don't want to be a downer.

So I shove it down. I pretend it's not there. I make some joke out of it, and I move on. I'm so afraid to "go there" in my mind, so I don't. Sometimes-- like Sunday night, I can't not go there. So I said to Matt what I was feeling-- "What would happen to me if something happened to you?". He made some side comment about having good life insurance. "No" I said. "I have no one. You're my only family. I'd be completely alone." Matt was silent. He knew I was right. Then the tears came. They streamed right down my face. Then I remembered why I never let myself go there. It hurts so badly. I didn't mention it again. Mostly because I knew nothing Matt could say would comfort me. He wants so badly to fix it. To make me feel happy, and secure-- it just doesn't work. He feels bad, and I feel bad that he feels bad.

I've tried the "Family" thing with lots of people. Friends, friends parents, extended family, in-laws, Church family. While I'm thankful to have had so many wonderful people placed in my life, no one can replace your real family. My real family isn't "family" at all. My Mother and Sister-- the only family I have left-- are happy to be selfish, and divisive. They play games, and lie. Every single time I've tried to be "family" with them, I've been hurt, and used, and stepped on. I've tried to be "family" with Matt's family-- but I've basically been told that I'm not welcome to do so. That I'm trying to "Steal them away". So I've stopped trying. That's why Matt and I now choose to spend holidays alone. I'm tired of not being welcome. Matt understands because he's seen how hard I've tried. How hurtful the things that have been said are. I still put on my "happy face". I'm cordial, and I still try to be nice, and helpful because they're Matt's family-- but I'm done. Thankfully I have a husband that knows me well enough to know how hard I've tried.

So where does all of this leave me? Alone. Frustrated that I have the family I have. Sad that this is the way things are. Painfully jealous of people that have great families.

The moral of the story is that some things don't have a happy ending. Sometimes life is totally unfair, and we won't have answers as to why this side of heaven. Stuffing it down doesn't make it any less real. The only consolation is knowing that when we finally decide to have kids-- they won't have to feel that way. That we can be to them what we didn't get ourselves. That we have a chance to do right by someone else.