Desperately seeking something

So there is this re-occurring outlandish theme that keeps coming out whenever I talk to myself about my mother in law and sister in law.

Then I remember that it is not possible. They could care less of who I am. Much less what I mean to my husband.

So thinking we'll bond or that somehow they'll value me for being his wife.

Then I tell myself that is my job.

To remain not in the fantasy of things, yet to be the wife my husband needs.

So as I put these ideas aside and leave that room for other conversations with myself to take place.

She was talking

Spent about three hours talking about how I would make dinner with my family. Well mostly aunts and uncles. Cousins that I hadn't seen in a long time.

Making breakfast for everyone. While also making a living with Patrick. It was awesome.
Only for it to be spoiled by the realization that it wouldn't work.

The more the talking continues, there is the sense of knowing. Somehow the person being breathed to life would only be that of a shadow.

It led into the other part of it, where justice is served. An those who felt as if I was not a person. Finally saw the errors of there ways.

Childish isn't it how we comfort ourselves in things. It is a habit now in this point in my life where I don't want it to stop. These sessions where it feels like a bunch of talking heads gather. All the happy shiny people.