Lately, I've been thinking about what it means for someone to know you. What does it mean to really know someone? I tell myself, that I just want one person to know me, and to love me for that knowledge. But isn't it supposed to be loving someone else for that knowledge? In all these years, it's still something I wonder about.
And so the wondering continues. Some days, it's easier to shrug it off. Other days, I think everyone just wants someone to be there, holding them, and telling them it'll all be okay. But what do I know? I get paid to kill people. I'm a monster for work. I just try to avoid being a monster outside of combat. I think that's the hard part to balance. As we were warned.
"So give me Justice and I'll have Paris in flames."
So in other news, my oldest boy is in a children's psychiatric hospital. *sigh* I'm struggling with that and trying to determine just how I feel about it. There are two things I've been told about the situation. Accept it as it is and that my boy has "issues" or don't. I've never really had any problems with him or his behavior. I think he has a lot of anger about some things (the divorce, living with his mother), but I think those are specific things and sometimes, we as parents, maybe might blind ourselves to those things and just find it a little easier for him to be out of control.
So, wrap those two together and there I am. That's what's on my mind. Throw in some hope, a little wishful thinking, a little nervousness, and some deep thought and here I be.
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