Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Meanwhile, here I am at home. Alone. In an empty house...
Well, almost empty... Our cat is curled up asleep a few feet away from me, and that warms my heart a little.
I can't help but imagine how this day was supposed to go. I would have tried to sneak in a shower before Alex left for work. And I would have taken care of Anya... Held her in my arms, fed her from my breast, lulled her to sleep. How I long to do those things! To fill this empty house, this silence, with cries and gurgles!
Instead, I pass the time. I read, meditate; I will have lunch with friends. I should try to find the energy to work on my art book, to channel all this sadness and hurt. But this morning I can't seem to find the courage.
So I write this. That's something at least...