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Monica Bielanko
A chronicle since 2005 of my marriage & move to Brooklyn in my twenties; becoming a mother in my thirties; moving to Pennsylvania and learning to amicably coparent after divorce in my forties while living 3 doors down from my ex-husband in a small country town.
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Monday
Jul232007

We All Float On



The following is a repost from a year ago. Just found this YouTube vid of my baby in action. This song. Float Away. It's a Marah song. It reminded me of one sleepless night in Brooklyn. All right already. We all float on.

I can't sleep. My two boys are engaged in an epic snoring competition in the next room. The big black boy sprawled on my side of the bed, the bigger white boy spooning him instead of me. Right now that suits me just fine.

We had a fight a day ago. About what, I don't recall - it's the escalation and subsequent trading of insults that tends to stick to my ribs. It's never the initial disagreement, is it? That's just the fuse, but once it's lit, look out baby - the whole of your transgressions from the past week, month and year are being locked and loaded, ready for strategic firing.

And so we fired our missiles, lobbed our grenades, until we were seriously wounded, nobody left standing. Me, face down on the couch sobbing. He, lying on the bed reading.

A 24 hour stand-off ensued. Monosyllabic sentences uttered only when absolutely necessary.
"You work today?"
"Yeah."
"You walk Max?"
"Yeah."

I tell myself that everyone fights, our elementary antics not uncommon. But not everyone lives their life like my husband. On a cigarette wing and a musical prayer. No thought to tomorrow. And then what? When he fails to stay then he'll fly away, to wake up tomorrow - if he wakes up tomorrow at all.

Only love can stop you now

He needs me

Float Away you're floating

If only to keep him grounded in reality...the semantics of life with which he has yet to make an acquaintance. Will his free spirited approach to living transform me, by default, into the person I never wanted to be? A sexy night consisting of dialing my credit card company to hear the computerized voice purr the dwindling balance of the Visa I work so hard to pay off? Yes. Yes! YES! Tell me more my sweet, electronic, baby. Was it good for you?

Perhaps The Surge will woo me to his side of the street.. because that's where my heart longs to dwell. But if I cross over, who will hold down the fort? Who will organize? Who will make sure to pay utility bills and student loans on time? That piercing thought niggles at my maternal instincts, keeps me from finding my way from this city of gray to his sunnier side of the street. Boy.

Will my demons and his insecurities devour us?

Any time at all
Any kind of blue sky over
Any kind of fall
Could land you on the lonely streets
Of anyone at all
Who's drifting from the arms of Somebody, Somebody, Somebody

Float Away you're floating...