I leave parties early because I’m tired. And I truly am. So very tired all the time.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m sick.
I leave to sleep.
And I never sleep when I get home. I can’t. I just lie there. Wanting to sleep. Waiting to sleep. Until much later.
I should have just stayed.
The sweater has been on my bed for days now.
I can’t bring myself to give it back or wash it.
I just smell it. Smell him.
Like that movie “The Cider House Rules.” Inhaling. To ease the pain.
I know people are tired of hearing about him.
Except I’m not.
Tired.
Of hearing about him.
Or talking about him.
I am trying hard to stop.
Or at least stop doing it so much.
But I don’t understand why people can’t be happy for me.
I’ve been through so much in that department.
People have no idea what I’ve been living with for years now.
Everyday.
Unbearable pain.
We’ve all been through things. Everyone.
I never thought I would be happy again.
In all honesty.
I thought I blew my chance.
But I have another.
So please try to understand why I talk so much.
There are people who get it.
Who remember everything.
Who were there.
Thank you for still being here.
And being supportive.
I can’t wait to see you.
My front door was open tonight.
I accidentally left it open and unlocked.
I’m losing my mind.
There’s a lot going on up there.
All the time.
More than anyone knows.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m sick. Or just tired.
2 Comments on Confessions
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I am writing to apply for the position of front door lock checkperson. I have lived in an abode with locks on the door for almost 30 years and have been responsible for locking them for almost 12 years. In addition to confirming doors are locked, I agree to light housecleaning and long hours of talking/listening. If you think I’m right for the position, I think you have my number 🙂
You’re hired! I’m usually OCD about that stuff, but I seriously lost my mind a little last night. I couldn’t find my Blackberry and was going nuts and then I happened to notice the door (after I had already gone to bed and got back up to write that entry). Nuts. Craziness. AGGHH! I need supervision, apparently.