Dear Journal,
6/25/10
I am scared. I am not going to lie. I am petrified of the thought of him running. After 15 years together and two kids, I have never loved him more. We are finally in a place where I feel like our lives had a semblance of normality.
We eat dinner most nights as a family, Fitz makes sure of it. When Congress is not in session, we take family trips, go to the Vineyard.
We do normal things...
Now I walk around with this dread. Last night when we made love, I cried.
I cried because I had never felt more loved and cherished by my husband. I had never felt more at peace. Then as we lay, nestled in the cocoon of sweat, sex and laughter...
I realize the television is on. I realize it is on CNN. I realize they are speculating, once again on whether Fitz is running for President.
I hate this. The way that stupid moment stripped me of my high.
That was our time, us, we, together. It was us after night of quiet dinner with the kids where politics and fixing did not exist.
Avery is growing so fast. And he's all Fitz now. The pout, his voice is cracking, the growth spurt. Blythe is such a beauty. She is going through her first crush. Logan Lopez is his name. He gave her a card for her birthday and kissed her on the cheek.
Oh, young love. I wish I had that innocence at her age.
I want to be selfish. I want to tell him "don't do it." Don't do it because I love you and our family. Don't do it because my parents marriage could not survive my dad's ambition. That years of Eli climbing and proving himself resulted in him losing my mother to booze and Dominique. While he checked off the list, Director of Clandestine Services, Director of the Agency, Secretary of Defense...my mom screwed his best friend. Behind his back as she spent her days swimming in Remy Martin.
I think back to the bad years, when I hated them. For fighting and the times my mother shipped me off to boarding school, the distance a world apart from any notion of family.
We had it all. The houses, the cars. The prestige.
The fucking prestige is all that mattered to Eli. How one minute he would fight with mom, the next they would pretend to love each other at dinner parties.
Fitz and I have never been that. We love each. And while no marriage is perfect, and I work too hard sometimes, the kids are happy. We are happy.
They don't know sorrow, and absentee parents like Fitz and I did. Parents who cheat, and use kids as leverage.
Parents who put them second...
I hate this. I have climbed, I have ambition and I have made Pope, Finch & Associates everything I dreamed.
And every step of the way, Fitz was there encouraging me, kissing my fears away, making me feel like I can do anything. I think about how his eyes light up every time I close a case successfully or when I am tasked with a merger.
Yet here I am mad at the mere thought of him chasing a dream.
I don't want him to give up anymore for me. He passed on being Senate Majority Leader because he did not want to spend anymore time away from me and the kids.
He wanted to coach Avery's basketball team.
He wanted to go to Blythe's jumping competition.
I can't deny him this. I want him to run. But I'm scared. Scared of the expectations, of the media prying into our lives. Most importantly I am scared for the kids. They have already started to ask questions.
They know. Their friends talk...
I've made mistakes. I am not Laura Bush. I slept around in high school. I got high in college. I am not First Lady material. And while Fitz and my friends accept me, I am not sure if the American people will.
I'm scared.
