sick for the second time in a month, or maybe i was never fully well?
urgent care. fever. bed.
i’m a little down. i’ve tried building bridges this year that were promptly burnt to the ground. i’ve tried to take new paths, bring in new people, only to learn that the big bad wolf wears many disguises. i just plain hate the hurt. i hate it.
i am momentarily discouraged. this is a hard time of year for anyone who has no significant other. i miss the house full of kids. i miss planning, wrapping, traveling to see distant family. there’s just no substitute for making xmas breakfast with your other while the kids and pets run wild with holiday joy. there’s a big empty hurt place that i thought was okay until i pulled out the decorations, and i think the big empty hurt place is bigger, darker than it was last year.
dammit, i’ve tried to fix it all. i’ve tried to mend it. i’ve tried to mend myself. i have tried so fucking hard. i know there is good stuff out there for me somewhere, and i’m open to allowing, receiving the good stuff.
if you have a partner, a family, count your blessings. you are so lucky. you are so fortunate to have another adult to come home to that cares about you. yes, i have friends, and damn fine ones at that, but it’s not the same as having your lover and your private jokes and stolen blankets and hugs and adventures. it’s just not the same.