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Writer's picturecatsmama7

I sobbed in the bread store.

I never took myself for the sort of person who'd constantly breakdown and cry in front of strangers. While I've done it most of my life over some of the silliest of things because I am most definitely a crier, I'm now doing it multiple times a day absolutely everywhere I go. It's Wednesday and I've been by alone since Saturday when I dropped Cat off. It's possible that I'm being the biggest baby ever and I truly need to get over myself. But, I'm also allowing myself to feel what I'm feeling.




I enjoy loving someone. I'm good at it. I've thought I've been in love a few times with different men throughout my life, but I know that I didn't love them because their loss never sent me to this sort of mourning for that love. I know that my love for and with my daughter isn't gone, it's changed forms and is evolving. The tears still come and I've given up wearing mascara for a little.


I wailed a little while climbing my stairs. It's like when I'm sick and feel like shit. I let out a moan or two like an animal and somehow it releases it from a deeper place. There are a lot more years left in this life of mine. The rooms of my home are quiet and only if I fill them with any sound will I hear anything back. I haven't put on music in a few days. I hum a little these made up songs, but I try not to think or sing too much when I'm feeling this way. The waterworks will come again and I won't be able to stop them.


Perhaps I'm feeling sorry for myself. I'm thinking of the years stretching before me and how I'll fill them. I'm thinking of who I am without my daughter, the meals that I cooked for her, the home that I made for her. Yes, it's great that she was able to go off and is doing her thing, but I still cry when I look around and see only a few of her possessions in the house. She's taken all of what she's needed and left behind the things she didn't want to bring with her. Some has been donated and gifted while other things put in the spare closet for when she has more space in her life. My home is now just mine. I can call out and no one will respond. The sucky sheen of this all is still so shiny. I think it'll pass sooner or later. I'll get a busier life so I won't focus on being alone. I'll start dating soon. Maybe meet someone when I'm not crying in the grocery store.


For now, I'm going to make a lovely dinner for one, sort through the hundreds of stray socks, and watch some British crime show. It's a funny shifting of modes and moods. Shifting into gears that stick like a VW Bug that needs some tending to. It'll take some work and I'll have to put myself up old blocks and do the work, but it'll be worth it in the end.


Life. So exciting and new. Come aboard. We're expecting you.

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