I could complain.

I could complain and I could rant. I could tell you how miserable I am and how unhappy I’ve become even though the money pours in. I could tell you how I miss him even when he’s on the phone or how I want to cry the very second he hangs up. I could tell you about all my stresses and my failures. I could tell you how badly I want him to come home and tell me he loves me and that it’ll be all right. I could tell you how much I hate being so far away… Or, I could tell you how right now doesn’t define me, or how happy I am that it’s the end of the day. I could tell you how happy I will be when I see him. I could be sweet and sassy. I could smile instead of scowl. I could take an extra 10 minutes in the tub to decide that I will feel better no matter what and make the most of what I have this very moment. I could sing instead of cry, all day long. I could make myself see butterflies and lady bugs instead of snow and mud. I could choose to be happy. It’s really that simple because I chose to make it that way.

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