Sobering things. Sissies need not apply, or if in the thick of it, it’s best to huddle together.

I have a crush.  Not a smush or a splat.  A crush.  Pleasant, overwhelming, and overtaking like a sparkling fruit drink on an August porch swing.  I can’t stop thinking about someone and it makes me giddy and happy and hopeful that the future really will be better than the past, whether it includes this person for long, or not.

0b1317f2877c24448c1fca688d45f664[1]

My friend and co-worker, however, had to leave work this morning after the nursing home called to say she’d better come right away — her father wouldn’t make it much longer.

We each get our turn on the roulette wheel, apparently.  There was a time, still a visible dot in the rearview mirror, when I slid the dull side of the knife I would use down my wrist, just to get a foreshadowing of how it would feel if I decided to use the blade part sometime.

Sobering things.  Infatuation.  Love.  Separation.  Death.  Suicidal Grief.  And on we go.  Sissies need not apply, or if in the thick of it, it’s best to huddle together.

Moving on

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s