I had a real issue this morning with road rage. I would like to say that it was directed at me, but truth is, I was shoveling it like it was my job. Everyone who was driving under the speed limit (not like a little bit, we are talking like 10km/h or more under, so don’t go getting all pissy and telling me they were just being cautious), the moron who cut me off because he apparently doesn’t know what advanced green arrows are, or the plethora of other asinine driving antics this morning just pissed me off to no end. Did I sleep well? No, but lets be real, what else is new. Was I in a bad mood when we left? No. I just got on the road and wanted to stab people.
Now, don’t get me wrong here, this post is not about traffic. Threw you off there for a second, didn’t I? It may have started with traffic, but it is delving deeper. I had a tea, had a shower and it hit me; was I mad at the drivers? No. I mean yes, I can’t fucking stand people who forget to take their heads out of their warm asses before getting behind the wheel. But my issue was more than that – it is people who refuse to stay in their own lane.
And this is where it leaves traffic…
My life is my life. Not yours. Not theirs. Not anyone else’s. It is mine. Just as other peoples lives are theirs. Not mine. I wish more people had this knowledge! If opinions and advice is sought, then by all means, two cents away. But until that point, stay in your own fucking lane. Do not judge me by my present, and for fuck sakes, don’t judge me by my past. There have been mistakes made, there have been events that shook me to my core, there have been issues that were others and were just dumped on me to fix and clean up, but I did it all. I stood on my own. I didn’t ask for help. I didn’t expect help. I didn’t take anything from anyone. I did it on my own, I did it my way, and I am still living my own life.
My life is not perfect. I was dragged into a LOT of shit by someone who shall remain nameless.. we will just call him “dickhead”. Lots of his choices were left on my shoulders, lots of his mistakes are still hovering in my background, lots of his opinions and negativity still swirl in my head. But I have my own lane now. I am no longer sharing his fucking idiot lane. I am in my lane, and he is in his. That is not to say that sometimes he tries to throw his blinker on and get back into my lane, but thats where my road rage comes in handy. I throw out a few choice expletives and speed away. Stay in your own lane, asshole.
I am now very choosy and picky about who I share my lane with. Not just anyone can share it. And if I don’t want you there, chances are good, you are well aware of my choice. I am not really all that demure (anymore.. there was a time where I was too afraid to speak my mind.. I also left that behind me, like an old busted ass broke down car). I like my life. I like where I am, and who I am here with. It may not make sense to most people, but it is my choice, my lane, and my life. So I don’t really care what anyone else thinks.
That’s not to say I am not JEALOUS AS FUCK of people who got their shit right on their first try. My god, wouldn’t it be nice to not have all the extra baggage that we have to carry around with us every day. Hell yes. But that isn’t our lane. Sometimes I want to punch people who complain about their life when they really have it so much easier than someone who’s on their second go at it. But I don’t.. cuz you know what? That is THEIR LANE! Their lane may not be riddled with (proverbial) abandoned samsonites like mine is, but still, their lane, not mine.
My husband and I have a good life. For us, it is quite charmed. For what we came from, it is a fucking fairytale. When I go to bed at night, I know I am exactly where I want to be, and with who I want to be with. There is no “what if”, no wondering, no imagining a different path (unless he was also on the path with me)… no questions at all. He is my person. He is my heart. He is my oxygen. My life isn’t perfect to you, but you know what is amazing? Your life isn’t perfect to me, either. So there, take that apple and shove it.
I might be jealous of the first try people, but unless my husband was my first try in this scenario, I wouldn’t want a do-over. I say this to him all of the time, and to anyone who asks “If you knew, would you still do it?”… absolutely. Yes. For him? I would do this over and over again if I ended up with him. I would find him, always, and choose him. Over and over. Forever. For always.
You don’t know my story, and if you do, you still won’t ever really understand it like I do. So stay in your own lane, and maybe I won’t go insane and key you.. although, maybe I will. That is the best part about road rage… its beautiful unpredictability. HAHAHAHA!