I need a room. Why do people yell that at kissing couples, but not offer it to those that could really use one?
Do you want to know why it’s “always the quiet ones” that lose their shit? Because those are good people that have been simmering, and have slowly lost all access to ventilation.
I need a place to scream in anger, to scream in pain, to dissolve into a puddle of grief and anguish. As necessary to vent this torrent of feeling …without terrorizing my son. A room with a Nerf bat and a mattress against the wall. Is that so much to ask?
Oh, your tax money. Right.
I’ll just go buy a gun.
Sometimes, I am certain, hearts are broken in ways that can’t be fixed.
There should be euthanasia for that.
What happened to mercy?
Hot showers used to be heaven. I could stand under the water until every bit of warmth had soothed my body and the water had gone cool.
Today, halfway through the shower I am in so much pain my lower half can’t support my upper. I literally have to cross my arms below my breasts and lift them up to remove the weight from my spine. This makes completing the shower pretty difficult.
What can I even do with a back that won’t support my body?
Now that it’s over I need to summon the strength to dry my hair and finish dressing. With my bra on the pain is starting to become dull. But I need to lie down right now more than I feel capable of standing in the bathroom with a hair dryer.
What am I going to do with me?