Today, I would like to brood.
More then usual, getting out of bed this morning was an effort. I woke up with that consuming feeling inside, the one that says, there’s just no point to today. Because the last few days have been filled with so much news, so much bad news, that I’m prone to tearing up every time I think about it, which is every few minutes.
Today, I would like to mourn.
I want to give each incident its true period of grief. I want to allow myself to feel the loss of lives. Of former friends, of unborn babies I never got to know. It’s a tragedy isn’t it? Youthful deaths and miscarriages—the pain felt all the more by parents and would-have-been parents. I feel the pain too. From a distance. Because I love you, I would have loved your child L and D, I’m so sorry. I wish there was a way for me to tell you, show you, that I hurt too, for you.
Today, I would like to stay home and cry.
I would like the tears to fall, as many as they can. Just to spread across my face before my flattened pillow, my bed sheets, my memories of sleep, absorbs them. I feel the tide rising inside of me, inside my chest, threatening to overflow. I’d like to let them take over, for a day. Let my eyes swell to the size of heartbreak. Let myself cry, if only as an emotional outlet, because it’s all just so damn sad. So.Damn.Sad.
I can’t think of anyways to make everything better, not coffee, not conversation, no, not even chocolate.