Who likes a good baseball metaphor?

Hi there! Its me, Michelle. Over here in left field.

I've gotten a couple of emails about the randomness of my last post. I know right? Where the fuck did that come?! Or maybe you are like HELLO! Michelle out there in left field? Why are you eating the grass and not seeing the mess that desperately needs to be dealt with?

(get it? FYI. Thats the extent of my baseball metaphor.)

Let me tell you something about the internet. It is little like real life. You can't kick facebook in the balls. You can try, but I doubt it has the same affect as real life. I'm pretty sure I've posted before about trying to figure out my place in this very tiny space called My Blog. My blog is censored by many outside influences.  If I had my choice I would share everything. Yep everything. Even how gosh darn heavy my period was last week.

(Hi, my name is Michelle and I'm an over-sharer).

Out of respect and fear of being judged, I have held back. From the internet, from my family, from my friends, even my very best friends... and even me.

I promise not to make this blog a long list of cliche sayings, but fuck. The truth hurts. And being the negative drama filled couple of a group bites. Some times you just suck it up and put on your happy face. Especially when you do really like the other half of your marriage. I mean, Matt is a great guy. You should meet him. He'll probably make you laugh and then clean your dishes for you.

But I think people can see through if they want to. They can see others struggle and try to help out as best they can.

The only person who has known the truth. The whole truth. Is our counselor. She has walked us through the last two years, trying to help both matt and I find happiness, respect, love, kindess...and all that other lovey dovey deep emotional stuff. But she's also helped us work on ourselves. To be honest. And fuck. The truth really hurts. Admitting that you treat someone a certain way because you are not in love with them, is a pretty damn hard thing to come to terms with. Let alone say outloud.

I've protected the ones I love. And I stand by my decisions. Because I still love them. Even Matt.
I wish clean dishes could make a marriage work.