Being true to myself

This will be a difficult post for me to write, because in it, I will write about things that I have struggled with for some time.

For a very, very long time, I have wanted my wife and children to come home. I have prayed for it all the time, and, especially at night, when I'm by myself, they are chiefly what I think about, as if I have no other interference from anything else. It's like listening to an AM radio station at night, where I just learned why the signal carries longer when it's dark. That's how my brain is -- as if it were a one-track mind, wishing and hoping and dreaming of the people I love the most.

But there is one thing that does cross my mind when I'm alone with my thoughts. I'm not always proud of that thought, but it happens anyway. What can I say -- I refer to these thoughts as primal urges.

Sometimes I wonder if there isn't someone out there waiting for me -- someone who isn't my wife, but someone who wants love and caring and compassion just like I do. It's hard for me to explain, because I know what I want. It should be obvious to anyone.
But there are times I think about it, and times I wonder if it is right to even be contemplating such a thing...I mean, I know in my heart, that if my wife and I were to ever come back together, it would be the most glorious thing on Earth, and I would never, ever ever want anything more than that.

But I do want to be happy, you know? I do want to love someone, and share deep thoughts with them, hopes, fears and dreams. I do have those, you know? And I would love to share them with someone.

I am eternally hopeful that someone is my wife, where we can learn to love again, and learn to laugh and share and spend the rest of our lives together. Because wanting something different than that, I have learned, isn't real.

The love I have for my family -- for my children and my wife -- is.