I wish I could post something positive tonight.
I can’t. Couldn’t last night. I chose something old and full of hope. When I pushed strollers around and could barely think past the next hour. When my focus was the next bottle, diaper, nap… when my small babies held me tight, giving me all the warmth I could ever need. And more.
Today? The rollercoaster moves on, top speed.
I’m scared. Bravado is gone. Confidence, lost in the last turn of the rollercoaster as it prepares for the final drop, flung out of the car like a prize won at the carnival games.
For the first time, I’m really scared.
Two sides to this story. I am gone. Terrified of the next outburst.
She is gone. No one to hear her. Understand the new feelings, barely formed words, she has found.
We are both lonely.
In WWI, the peace across no man’s land lasted a single day. Men stood and smoked. Shared chocolate. Sang “Silent Night.”
When dawn broke, they started shooting again.
And so it is here, with our own truce.