I got to thinking

while I was radomly swearing at the damn computer for refusing to play the dvd Lukas wanted to watch. While having no television is of no consequence to me (because I watch it like once a week), Lukas is missing it. Both him and his daddy seem incapable of functioning without that big dumb black screen. For me it's always been noise with a few tiny exceptions. But Mark and Lukas they plan there life around it. I got to thinking about how many of the arguments we had were over that TV. From the heated rows about yet more sport, to the playful teasing about the fact that Mark can reel of stats from any given sport but still doesn't know exactly what days his sons were born on. I thought about the days out that were ruined because Mark was sulking about missing something or trying to hurry us along to get back for something. The television was never my thing it used to be books. I devoured every printed word with the appetite of a starving person. I needed to absorb every word, every phrase. I could read a book cover to cover in hours, and then read it again to make sure I didn't miss anything. I read anything I could get my hands on and would happily wait up all night to ensure I finished the book I had started. I used to read in the bath, read on the bus, read while the teachers were talking at school. As my hands got worse and the headaches increased from being a few times a month to weekly, daily and then constant the books fell to the wayside. I couldn't concentrate on them anymore, reading them wasn't worth the pain. My second biggest passion is music. I choose songs to reflect my mood, I play them over and over again until I know them word for word. I feel as if the words in some songs just seem to fit the way I feel better than I could express. I have a passion for digital scrapbooking I collect kits, I scrap layouts (I willingly admit to sometimes spending hours on a layout only to scrap it because it just doesn't seem right.) I have a passion for my sons. That passion consumes my every waking moment and almost every one I spend sleeping. I am filled with a love that burns like a bright beacon. People are drawn to its radiance like moths to a flame. They aren't sure what they are seeing but it draws them close. Some people have to step away because it's such a burning passion it burns too bright for some people. My passions drive me they make me the person I am. Without passion I would be nothing a mere shell of myself. Mark doesn't have a passion sure he is consumed by his desire to sit and vegetate. He would happily spend his whole life in front of the television, playstation or laptop games and he would never feel discontent about it, because his drive just isn't there anymore. He used to have drive and be artistic, but most of all he used to be motivated. When I first met him he made me laugh all the time. I couldn't wait to be around him. Hell I used to go to work early (yes I know me the I Don't Do Mornings! girl) so I could waste time drinking a diet coke and eating a king size mars bar in the shop with him instead of on the till where I worked. I used to be clock watching for it to be 9pm at work because that meant he would be waiting for me outside. He used to be early and lecture me for being late while I giggled and called him an old dinosaur. Then he left it was sudden with no announcement and I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach. I was stunned how much it hurt me that he hadn't said goodbye. I innocently asked his friend where he was trying not to sound interested. With each passing day I grew more angry and less hurt with him. Then someone who used to come in the shop mentioned he had seen Mark working in a certain shop. I felt my heart race a bit. Though I admit he never knew it because I let rip with my fury on him. He stood back stunned unsure why I was so mad. I wanted to beat him about the head with something to knock some sense into him, bloody hell you dumb man do you really not know what I am feeling for you? The details of the months that followed are a little hazy to me, and I am sure you are wondering why I am telling you this now. It's because that day I realised he had become my passion. My driving force. Now I guess I kind of feel like my guide rope has been severed I am left to the ride called life and I have nothing to guide and centre me. I just have to hope that I can swerve every bump in the road, or at least not hit it hard enough to fall out. So if it seems like my wheels are a little wonky for a while, and you suddenly find yourself witnessing just how badly I drive. Just be aware that whatever road my life travels from here on Lukas will be fastened securely next to me, nothing and no-one will ever threaten that. If Mark decides to climb back in for the ride there is room in my heart but he will have to find the key because for now I am burying it so I don't end up hurting myself because I am so desperate for my guiding light to return.