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One day, their prince (or princess) will come. And it might suck.

I hate PMS-it makes me all moody and weepy and sorta simpering. But watching some banking commercial (you know, the ones that show how life "changes" and make you feel guilty that you haven't opened that RRSP yet...) got me to thinking as I sat cradling Rosalyn's head in my hand.

Someday, they will both walk into life with a partner. And they will have their own interests, desires, needs, hates, loves. I might not like the person they love. I might see how it will end, but will remain silent, as there are certain lessons one must learn all by themselves. I will have to stand by, and watch their hearts break.

Each day I understand more and more why my parents sheltered me the way they did when I was young. It's so fleeting, those moments when the world exists only for you, when a grassy patch is the universe in a second, when the love you feel for you parents is all encompassing and pure. I can remember the quantum shift my brain took when the world went from me, to them. When the plane exploded over Locabie Scotland, I remember sitting in a chair, my mother using the curling iron in an attempt to even out the sides. We were watching the news before church. And it was like reality slapped me in the face. I asked her why people did things like that.

I don't remember that she had an answer for that question, and that was the first time that happened. The world suddenly came into focus for me, and it wasn't a nice thing.

I know this is coming for Vivian and Rosalyn, all too soon. I know that someday, we'll be watching them walk down an aisle with that one person who looks at them the way they deserve to be looked at, and I'll see their future, my eyes will open up again to a reality.

That I need to let them go. That I am here to take them to the moment where their eyes truly open, because without that, they would never find the love they deserve.

I'll have to break my heart to let theirs remain open.

Is it really so dire? :(

somedays it feels like it is. Hopefully they will have lives filled with less pain than I have. I'm feeling some sort of future melancoly for them right now.

And as sweet as love can be, the heartbreak is hell sometimes. Especially the first one. I'm speaking more of being unable to prevent pain for my children...

Well, heartbreak is the price we pay for being able to choose our own mates. The alternative is lifetime marriage to someone who is chosen *for* you, right?

I think the best thing for you to do is raise them smart enough, tough enough, and confident enough. They will make their own choices, learn from their mistakes, be strong enough to survive the hurt, and wise enough to avoid becoming jaded.

(I understand that it is a lot easier to give this advice than to actually follow it.)

Oh I know. But I'm just SOOO understanding why parents hate watching us fuck up. They KNEW what would happen....


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