I misjudged my step and my foot is broken.
I misjudged my bank account and now I am broke.
I misjudged my capacity for self-pity and now I am drowning in it.
I imagine that wherever Bartleby is he is laughing at me.
And I am ridiculous... seriously.
Stumbling through the house on crutches, my cell phone tucked in the strap of my bra, a can of Fresca tucked under the other strap. What I really want is a bowl of cereal... but there is not any way I can think of to manage that... even my bra is not that big or sturdy.
I managed to get to my bed without breaking anything else... so that's a plus.
I think the broken foot is a sign. I think I'm supposed to stop trying to run away. I fill my time with work and other diversions so that I don't have to deal with what's in my head. I fantasize about trips to Hawaii and Venice - as though my head won't follow me there. Don't worry, I am going to see someone about this. And I know that this is not all just because he died.
I think I just need something good. Something big and good to see me through this. But what is big enough, good enough to see me through this?
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Broken, Broke and Drowning in it.
Posted by J. Denae at 11:37 PM
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
You are! (good enough.) Big enough, too (though in the way you originally meant, and not the awkward way it now sounds from me.)
When you don't feel enough goodness for filling that big space, God will find a way to remind you that it's there. "Peace I give you. My peace I leave with you."
Honey, you have a lot of good. A LOT. It's just so hard to see it through the fog. I'm glad you're going to see someone.
You knew there was going to be "stuff" to deal with after he was gone. You just didn't expect him to go this way.
Can you just stand at the kitchen counter and eat cereal? That's what I would do.
Post a Comment