Here

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I sat for a minute, lay down, not knowing what else to do.
There are, there are things to do, but what they are escape me right now.
The music puts its foot on my chest and holds me down and I don’t even try to wonder how. It says all the things I won’t understand.
I am existing. In this room. In this place, between nowhere and nowhere else.
It’s grey and rainy, and the weight is everywhere I can see.
Warm fur nestles to my side, begging that I love, feel, and the memories just flow, leak, roll.
The face I can see, and don’t see, and the hand I can’t touch, slides into my own. The heart I can’t reach, beats behind my eyes, pushing each tear to the point of overflowing.
That heart is gone, wherever mine is, they have run away together, but I am still here.
There are things to do. Important things, unimportant things. But what and which, is what and which?
The voice changes, the music, the song. It always changes.
And the chair sits in the corner and rocks, laments days when it was an important thing.
The scents leak from the cupboard. Things hidden away, nestle together in the comfort they can no longer give.
And the call beckons softly, to find another place, other things. To pack the music up and take it away with me.
The warm body next to me huddles closer. A tear licked away. A soft snuffle. Please?
I am here for the love you cannot give. The things that are gone. I am here.
I am here.
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Truths

b11f8b78b4835d640e40e2e56d2cdd0cThis morning I woke up. It may not sound like much, but that in itself was my first achievement for the day. I neither wanted to, or was sure of the fact I would…but I did. And in many ways, too many to count, I wish I hadn’t. Today, all waking up did, was set in motion the string of events that followed…resisting the urge to even look at my phone, and then numbly moving the length of my house, through a myriad of painful rooms, to end in a kitchen I didn’t want to be in.
The journey back to feeding my girls, no less painful, past a closet full of unopened Christmas and Birthday gifts, paintings and through a bedroom, to a table. Everything.
65966bf685d0d68c40d77ee535634cedI stared blankly past a hammock into a backyard while they ate, before even realising that my twisted my ankle was hurting too.
I got asked at the shops twice if I was okay, by strangers, who at second glance, knew they shouldn’t have asked, and fell silent. I walked halfway home before I realised I hadn’t got what I went for and turned back.
6501944db6e4349708997ea14703bffeA friend sat and listened while I calmly spoke about things that one shouldn’t speak about, because she knew that even if I didn’t say them, I would still be thinking them. And she watched helplessly, as I held back tears and focused on keeping my coffee down. I am grateful that she knew not to voice the pearls of wisdom, and ‘platitudes’ that run through a mind when they see someone in distress…’it will get better’, ‘time heals’, ‘you deserve more’… no. Just No.
12463864_1657797597804393_790195381_nI turned on my music player, but couldn’t hit play. I picked up my phone and put it back down, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to speak. I tried to reassure my girls that it would all be okay….but I know they could see it in my eyes and hear it in my voice, that I don’t really believe that. So they brought me their toys and rested their heads on my lap, because there’s nothing else they could do. There’s nothing else anyone can do.
9b09457f2a61ddb347fe6f4727965cf9I was supposed to start work tomorrow…but I’m not. I need to finish my latest work in progress, but I can’t. I need to start packing some things away where I can no longer see them, but I don’t want to. I should think, but there’s too many thoughts to even make sense of. I have to give up, but that goes against the grain of who I am. So right now, all I can do is be.

Because I don’t want to think past anything. That might take me forward to tomorrow morning, when I have to wake up and feel all of this again.

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Thanks for listening Kids.
V