My Real Life


In my real life (You see this is not it. This is not the life at all I imagined for myself.)I am having a lovely time. In my real life I sit on a sunset beach gazing upon gentle crystal blue waves. I am sipping on a glass of sweet red wine and the wind is blowing softly in my face and carrying the scent of hibiscus and jasmine with it. In my real life-it is peaceful and quiet and the noise around me is not drowning out my thoughts.

In my real life I do not worry about how the bills will get paid or how to fix all the broken things piling up around me. In my real life, I am writing my tenth best seller and I am scheduling the next book tour with the hope it does not coincide with my vacationing in Tuscany. In my real life there is a limo waiting (not the granny panty car with constant loud noise coming from somewhere) outside my luxurious home as I am rushing to prepare myself for the party I have been looking forward to. In my real life I wear diamond earrings the size of robin's eggs dangling from my ears to every occasion.

In my real life I don't worry about how many groceries are in the house because I eat out at five star restaurants or the cook will cook for me at home. In my real life the maid does very well keeping up and there are clean sheets on my bed each and every night. In my real life there is a balcony off of my bedroom with wide French doors and I sit in a wicker rocker and am surrounded with white twinkle lights and stars in velvet skies. In my real life I never sleep single in a double bed with my freshly washed sheets at night. In my real life I am loved and cherished.

In my real life each child is respectful and polite to me. They call me, "Mother Dear" instead of "Hey Ma". They never leave a mess in the bathroom or get in trouble. We sing together around the baby grand piano and we call each other sweet nicknames like "Biff" and "Skip" and "Kitten" instead of "Idiot" and "Stupid" and "I Hate You".

In my real life I never have pity parties like the one I am having here. There is no need. In my real life everything is ideal and wonderful and perfect.

That's how I live in my real life you see-not in this one.

This version, the one I never imagined, is much harder to live in than my real life. I suppose it is a way of building character to have to stick it out in the tougher life and still be able to find the joy in it. Maybe that was the thought God had when he decided to give me this life instead of the real one. I guess its okay.

If I can't have the life I imagined, my actual real life-I am happy to take this one and make it my own. The pity party is over. Everybody go home.

Monika M. Basile