This time last week I was spending my last night in a little place called Williamsburg, VA. A very quaint little town that is deep with history. Literally, up to the top of lampposts deep. Sara and I had a marvelous time and now considering even moving there. We did what most people did on their honeymoon, but Williamsburg allowed for some nice tourism trips so we partook in those, too. Was it fun? Of course. Did it end? Most definitely. Was it worth it? Another yes. Did it change things? In some ways. Ohio is still Sara’s bane as thus she is miserable again. And what is always in the company of a miserable wife? An even more miserable husband. Our lives are indeed enriched by one another but there is still something there – something big – that we just can’t shake. Lies? Deceit? Murder? Cheeseburgers? Nope, none of those: it’s life. Life is indeed blocking the full happiness we both deserve. Not life as in a baby or the board game, but rather life as in where it is right now and where we want it to go. I suppose you could say that we’re being selfish or trying to rush things, but then you wouldn’t be seeing it from our view.
Sara has lived here her entire life. She has a life here with family, friends, dogs, cats, and even restaurants. I’ve been here for, what is it, six months now? You would think that being here for so short a period I would be able to move yesterday and allow for a more enjoyable life together, but I can’t. Not because I like Hamilton or Ohio, I’m actually quite disgusted with both at this point. It’s more of a worry standpoint. I just can’t find myself to pick up and move on a whim without knowing what exactly is ahead of me. Sure, I would know where we were going to live and I would know whats there and such; the thing that bothers me however is that I don’t know how my life would continue there. Would there be a better job for me? Better cakes? Better grocery stores? I just don’t know, and that scares me. Most at this point would assume childishness and that I’m being, for lack of a better word, a coward. It’s not that, though. It’s Sara. I worry for her. If I don’t get a good job first and foremost, our lives would be exponentially more difficult. I hate to see her sad, or miserable, or even gassy. Nothing warms me more than coming home to a joyous “Hello honey!” and having her run over to greet me with a hug and a kiss. Seeing this same bundle of happiness later sit on the couch protruding misery and a slight edge of hate makes my stomach turn physically sick. I want the best life for her, but I’m afraid I can’t really give it to her. At least, not now anyways.
I suppose I should put more trust in God, as it seems that is near the least of what I am doing. I know he will take care of us, he certainly has here as of recent. I ask him sometimes for help, and he gives it to me in some the most unbelievable and sometimes humorous ways. I wonder how he would respond to a “God, please help make my life easier” request. Perhaps a winning lottery ticket? A surprise letter proclaiming my inheritance of some foreign kingdom? My very own ice cream truck? Most likely not. He would probably do one of his signature “I’m already doing it, can’t you see it?” things. I do look, and all I ever see with my physical eyes is either a computer screen, a cracked windshield, or Sara. Maybe if I combined them? That probably wouldn’t work, Sara hates sitting on hard chairs, let alone a cracked windshield.
We’ll see, I think. I heard the phrase “Time heals all wounds” today. I wonder if time can heal Ohio, too. Personally, I think we’re going to need a lot of time, and a lot less Ohio.
