Life becomes so complicated sometimes. All I just want to do is read and write. I just want to write because I have all these amazing blogs waiting for content. But life gets in the way and writing have been pushed back lately. I am writing this now while my husband and son are still sleeping. We are going on a trip for my mother-in-law's birthday and I will hustle later because our bags are not yet packed. Damn. To think, I just came from a construction site yesterday talking to the contractor for a small space we have been building out of town. It's almost done after a year of going back and forth to the Home Depot picking up tiles, lights and other stuff. I am almost done too with a website for my food blog, coordinating with my website designer but still it is a work in progress. I can't seem to let go of my site on Blogger. I decided I will still maintain it due to sentimental reasons, yes, I am a sentimental fool. Meanwhile, I wake up early mornings to cook my son's lunch and drive him to school everyday and to his once a week speech therapy session.
So I just miss writing. Sometimes, I wish I could have a house near the beach and just write. My throat feels scratchy now maybe from all this stress but still I write. It's like a lover you come back to again and again, enjoying your sweet time together exploring worlds, swimming in imagination, lying back in sands of calmness. Then suddenly boom! your son demands dinner (already!) then you realize you have to let him go (close your laptop), this handsome, breathtaking stud with deep, soulful eyes with a gruff beard. You have to return back home where hard, practical reality awaits.
If only I could just run away with this dark, handsome lover and leave it all behind. Like making writing my thing. Leave all the practical stuff behind and just write for the love of it. I wish I could do that, just run away with my part-time lover who cannot promise me anything practical or pragmatic. To trust him that everything will be all right once I clamber behind him in his black Ducati and feel the wind on my face. To hold on to him tight while we careen down the winding roads of the Amalfi Coast.
What a dream, what a fantasy. Maybe one day. But right now, I have to prepare breakfast and yeah pack the damn bags. I'll come back to you later, mon amour, mi corazon, I shall return, I promise because the drudgery of life would be harder without you there.
