Sunny Day

Today is a sunny day in Perth. The grass in my front yard is drying out. It is a sparse array of long and spindly grass heads. The place looks neglected. Out the back weeds are growing between the paving stones. A breeze is buffeting one leafy tree. My clothesline is beginning to be engulfed by the new growth of this tree. I don't have the mental energy to tackle the task of pruning or cutting, sorting, or any household clearing. I'm worn out. Just being here for my children is all I can muster the energy for. Inside I'm parched of love. I need of a kind word, a pat on the back, some loving understanding, a friend. That particular luxury is not going to come my way I don't think. I must keep trudging forward though. Each step is a test of endurance.
I'm at home again by myself and like it that way, sheltered from the unintentional blows of indifference, unkindness and malicious gossip. My car is in for a service.
I'm wounded, hurting. My boyfriend rings up with a whole new mouthful of lies about who he has recently been overseas with and who he is now with interstate, and expects me to believe him. He knows that I know what he says are lies. Yet I'm supposed to accept lies.
Is this a good thing? If I could feel less bound to my mothering role, I'd do something about it by actively going out and finding another lover. As it is I don't want to desert the home. His dissatisfaction at the amount of time I can give him makes him moody, yet he declines to discuss how we can make more time to be together. He wants me in his home, control over my home and my money, and no kids. This seems very unfair from my personal point of view.
So he's making do with my girlfriend, though I don't think he loves her. But if he works under the assumption that I will accept anything given time, he is wrong. I'm not going to get used to the idea that he has two women. Nor will I be one of the women. It's only because I'm in my self-inflicted trap and he is my only chance of affection from someone I know, right now when he gets back, that I'm giving him head space at all. Once I'm freer on the weekends again I'll be able to go out and meet someone else.
I don't accept that he can have two women. I will not live with that. When he rings next week I'll tell him so. He'll deny that he has had anything to do with my girlfriend, and say that it is all in my head and I should get counselling. That is when I'll have to break it off with him. I am convinced I feel love for him though. I understand and like the way he is. Though he seems very influenced by his close family who don't love me. Some of his nasty strategies regarding bullying and intimidation, getting me to abandon mothering in favour of him, come from his family I feel. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he really is that selfishly monstrous spoilt child, destructively driving to have what he wants at the expense of others.
My 'ex' friends all know. I sense my exclusion, but because I'm used to that, put it down to being 'their problem'. Now I realise that some of those friends had been getting together socially with my ex-girlfriend and ex-boyfriend even though I was not aware that we had 'broken up', and certainly we weren't 'broken up' in the bedroom three or so times a week.

I'm attractive, intelligent, kind, responsible, aware, selfless in the face of duty to my offspring. Many people don't value or understand these traits. No friends understand me. New friends who seek to, I back away from. "Come along to tennis open day." says one girl who I admire. She is married with kids, active in clubs and around school. I'm flattered and honoured and say I'll try. Don't think I can do it, too sick at heart, too used to being at home in case someone needs something. I'm too afraid to get out there and be a part of a club, be normal. Not only that, I love tennis but the self-discipline I need to make me go, is lacking.
Deep inside I'm still that neglected little girl who never knew guidelines, boundaries, encouragement or approval. Inside if a could just be the person I have outwardly become, I wouldn't be the enigma and disappointment to so many who would befriend me. Perhaps people view me with suspicion when I don't open up and join in with things.
Actually, all that is not quite true. I have been active in canteen at school and committees to organise events for children. I was once in a book club, a karaoke singing group. I'm not an outcast. I swim and walk. Tennis, I'd always have to stop to wipe my running nose. I'd get puffed too easily. I've only had a few lessons and then played with the children. So in actual fact, tennis is not really for me.
What is true is that I'm worn out emotionally. I can't find the energy to get out and try any more. The betrayals of friends, the nasty social dishonesty and jealousy of people or of their childrens achievements, have slain me. I give up due to lack of strength.
My major pride and joy is seeing and hearing the achievements of my children. One said to me that he feels happy when he is striving for something, and that always takes hard work, which caused him a moments unhappiness at the thought of all the hard work he puts in to get happy. That means he is always working hard, but not fanatically at either sport or his studies. He regulates himself under the watchful yet non-judgemental eye of me who is mostly always upbeat, silly and irrelevant. No wonder they seldom feel the need to be demonstrative. I know they love me. Sometimes I even get thanked for a meal, or the chocolate I bought for a treat.