PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

i'm not ok...I just play ok on tv

Tuesday, Jul. 22, 2003
I really hate coming home to an empty home. I mean....Chloe is here, but when Rick's not going to be here, I tend to avoid the inevitable of coming home to so much silence. Sometimes it feels so big and intrusive and I realize I am alone and then it gets to me and I want nothing more than to hear a voice, see a face....not just any face either. I can't explain. I had a baby when I was 22 and ever since there has been someone around every minute of every day of every week of every year. This....is... I've learned what "alone" really truly means in some vicious hard ways lately.

I'm going to go lay down in the bath tub and let the water sooth me. I noticed something odd the other day...I was feeling sad. For no apparent reason. Just that feeling in my gut that rips open my chest metaphorically and ....I wanted to cry...to gorge myself of all the frustrations of the last few weeks. And Rick was home...I wasn't alone...and I simply could not cry like that.

Why is it that when I tell someone I'm not ok, they assume that I am?
7:41 p.m. ::
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