Blogging

I haven't kept up with this blog so much since I took it off the internet. I should prolly find a happy medium of some sort whereby I can post stuph about running but my other more dangerous introspective blogs remain hidden. Last night instead of my usual nightmares I drempt that Cara told me she loved me as she left for Berlin. That's a few months away, so it might happen. I haven't given up hope of a reproachment with her despite its current unlikelihood. I still love her very much. And after writing that I realized that "rapprochement" is what I'm hoping for while "reproachment" is all I've gotten from her for years, and am all I'm likely to receive in the future. Freudian slip no doubt.

This picture is a good metaphor for my life. I'm trying to hold onto my Americanness as best I can while functioning in Europe. I have come to a state of acceptence about being here despite my desire to return because of Maxwell and Zara. Many friends and family have judged me harshly for this tenacity; the husband is supposed to move out and see the kids on weekends, right? Wrong. That is a horrible narrative that the feminist media foists upon us to further dehumanize men. I will work to change that.