More of the Same
A* is basically homeless right now; he has been staying sporadically with friends and family, never too long in one place so that he doesn’t wear out his welcome. I feel so guilty as I go to sleep in a nice warm bed in a nice warm house and I don’t even know where he is. I can’t ever get a hold of him, have to wait until he gets in touch with me and when you’re thinking of someone every second it seems like years between phone calls. I just wish I could DO something, but I’m completely stuck in the situation right now. A* has got to take care of some things before I feel comfortable bringing C. back into the situation, and these things may take a while. If there is one thing that I am not good at, it is waiting. I want things to happen yesterday, so having to go day by day and knowing that nothing was accomplished is horrible.
Mostly I’m just so pathetically lonely. A* is my best friend and I miss him more than I could ever explain on this space. I have started writing in a notebook every night to him, every night that we can’t be together. I try to remember cute things that C. may have done or said, and things that I think of throughout the day that I want to tell him, and how I’m feeling. I may or may not let him read it someday. God I pray so much that there is a someday for us. Some moments I have a great attitude and I know everything will work out for the best, but then the black hole of depression sucks me right back in and I am hopeless again.
For some reason the worst part of my day is right after lunch. I would think it would be at night, but I think by then I’m so worn out from the whole day sleep is the only thing that I can think of. But when I come back from lunch at work there are tears just ready to fall, and I feel so helpless and negative about everything and this is when I think the worst thoughts.
If it wasn’t for C. I have no doubt I would either be in my bed under the covers for the next foreseeable future or I would be in the mental ward at the local hospital here is no choice but to pick up my feet, one after the other, squeeze that little boy for all he’s worth, and get through every day.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home