There is a Big Thing in my life, mostly because I keep it here. It didn't originate in my life, it came from Travis'. And while he is done with it completely, I hang on to it. Tightly. White knuckled. Believe me, it takes a lot of energy to hold on to the Big Thing so well.
Travis doesn't really think about the Big Thing any more. He feels like it served its purpose and got him to where he was supposed to be: Catholic and happily married to me. In fact, he tells me the only times he does think about the Big Thing is when I bring it up.
And I do bring it up, in one way or another, at least once a week. But honestly, I think about it every day. At least once. every. single. day.
And when I hear the Big Thing referenced by others I wonder what Travis would be like if he hadn't let go of it. From a distance I can look at the Big Thing and see that we make his life very different. I wonder, is Travis really happier? He says yes.
But, and especially with all my struggles adjusting to motherhood, I don't always trust that. I am jealous of how long he had the Big Thing and how much he loved it while it was his.
To him it's a pretty Little Thing. I am the one who makes it Big by thinking of it so often. Yet, it's bigness is why I think of it so much. To me it is a large reference point in our lives. It makes me feel like I am not quite right or enough. In fact, the Big Thing is part of the cause of my struggles in adjusting to motherhood. Travis doesn't really care for the Big Thing too much any more, perhaps more so because of how I feel about it.
If you see us, Travis' arms are wide open; mine are clinging the very thing I hate the most.
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