I used to be poetic. Very much so, in fact, that I would spend hours and hours writing poems and thinking lyrical nonsense all day long. I dare say I was pretty good, but not so good that I believed it to be a "talent". It was just a thing. A way of expression. 574 poems later, it stopped.
Now whenever I blog, I write about simple stuff, like "Today Jonathan and I went to the store" or "What beautiful weather this is" etc. As intriguing as I make myself out to be, I don't really care about those things. I write it because it is what I expect to be written on a blog with my married name attached to the top.
I haven't written a poem in over a year. I did write one song...once...but that was months ago. My fingers were in pain and so I put away the guitar back in the closet. If that were me three years ago, I would play until my fingertips bled. I would go crazy in finding new chords and strange sounds that were so pleasing to hear. Now, if it starts to hurt just a little I cannot make myself go on playing. I think that has a lot to do with this "new life". Marriage changes everything.
I love this life, and there's not a thing I would do to take it back- or even put if off. But the hard part of it is coming to grips with what I care about and what I don't. I don't see any good coming from me writing poetry and playing music...not like the good that is in learning how to cook and sew and do crafty, homemaker type things. Still, when I open the closet to find some misplaced something or other and see my pink guitar gathering dust, I am sad for myself.
There are friends of mine, married ones, that would understand my thinking. There are others that would say, "Every talent is important. You need to have things you do just for yourself- so go and do them." How I so wish I could revert back to those things...but it is my belief that we go through a never-ending cycle of gain-lose. I gained the ability to express my feelings when I most needed to speak, and I have lost it when words for sanity were no longer needed. This is just fine with me. The world keeps on turning as far as I can tell.
Maybe one day I will need to speak again. But I enjoy the ease of just being happy and not having to say why. Like last week when we took a walk through the snow and didn't have to say much because it was already perfect. And like today, as I laid on the paper-covered chair at the doctor's office. I smiled quietly, listening to my son's heart beating and no words were needed then. I have never, ever been *so happy-marriage has done that for me. I guess that's why I find it all right to feel in silence.