Skip to content

late and looming

December 11, 2007

It is that thing I have been putting off. Pushing it away because it all feels to raw and real and immediate. It makes me feel more alive and I don’t think I can carry that burden right now. Feeling unaware and letting it all wash over me as I am helpless is all I can manage. I force myself to study (missing an A again by less than a 1/2%…). Forcing myself to play with the children. Forcing myself to talk about something else. I push it away but it creeps back. I try to shut it out and then feel guilty for not wanting to think about it. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to see. I don’t want to see their faces when I close my eyes. In the dark, next to my husband I read with my dim light because I can’t think of anything when I read. I suspend my disbelief and enter into a world that is dictated to me. I read familiar books over again because they represent the past and comfort. A time before all this happened. I take pills to sleep so I don’t lay there awake resisting the urge to go into my children’s rooms and stare at them while sleep. Resist the urge to go in and kiss my daughters soft, plump, pink cheek feeling her long blond hair beneath my lips smelling her heavenly smell of girl. Rubbing my sons sweaty head full of waves and curls also blond. Snoring lightly and head tilted back he is warm and almost irresistible. I go to bed and relent to the closeness I have put off. It is lovely and tender and sweet as it always is. Precious and delicate and touching parts of my heart that are raw and lamenting. I cry because I am so fortunate. I am fearful because this is all so big and I want it to go away. I let this man into my life and that is always a gamble. I don’t know why we love each other. I have no fucking idea how we fell in love. I only know for certain that we are. And I am, grateful.

3 Comments leave one →
  1. December 11, 2007 11:49 pm

    Advice- assvice…

    Keep telling yourself- It’s okay- It’s all okay- the guilt for laughing, the pain of their deaths, the love you feel for and from your family, the horror, the pain, AND the joy. Wicked and real.

  2. December 12, 2007 12:26 am

    Very eloquent, very beautiful.

  3. December 16, 2007 4:12 am

    Your lament reads like poetry.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: