Monday, November 28, 2011

A clearer head, a better day.

So, I've been thinking about my last post a lot, and I realize why it's been such a tough week. We are here in China doing a training exchange with traditional Chines opera performers. They are so physically adept. The acrobatics they know are beyond amazing. I realize that you would have had so much to offer, and receive from this experience, where as I feel like a stick in the mud who can barely do a back bend, or a passable cart wheel. People are flipping themselves all over each other, and I just wish so bad that you could be participating because you were the skilled one! You moved so well! And me... I'm just funny, and maybe, well, I think that's all. Just funny.
I get so mad at you for dying. "Look what you could be doing!!!" I say, exasperated into the air- at you, hoping that you can hear me. 
And all this baby business is absurd. I don't want a baby. I want our baby. I wish we were having a baby.
I want things that I can't have, and it makes me sad. I want our black haired daughter with her dad's beautiful eyes. I want our son, with my excellent sense of humor. But no, not possible, so I get upset, and negate all the wonderful things I've done, and all the wonderful people I've been lucky to meet since you left me that stupid June night, and it's not fair. 
Knowing now why I've been such an emotional wreck all week makes it all bit more bearable, and that's good. Not great, but good good good.

Monday, November 21, 2011

I'm in China...where are you???

Today is another day. Tomorrow is another day. Day upon day. Week upon week. The sun goes up, the sun goes down.  The world keeps moving. Your absence is astounding. Being in a foreign land- away from diversions- people, alcohol, weed, and a kitten- makes me remember all too well how much I absolutely miss you. I miss your love. I miss your affections. I miss being your girl. Sometimes I want a baby. Is that crazy? Why does your absence make me want to have a baby? I don't know. Maybe I don't want a baby. Maybe I just want you. You wrote me letters. I liked your letters. No one writes me letters now. I wish you could write me a letter. I'm depressed. I am venting to you. Hopefully next time I write I'll be in better spirits. Can I tell you a secret? (You are not the only one I miss.) I believe my heart is big enough.