The Pool of Tears
All I do anymore is cry.
I cry out of hope watching Obama, thinking I would actually have more hope and inspiration in starting a family in this country were he to win the presidency.
I cry out of mourning, remembering where I was, what I was doing, getting ready to do, and everything I left behind three years ago today.
I cry out of worry, wondering when my mom calls to say she's prepared, why does she have to make it through another storm, why am I not there to help her?
I cry out of loneliness, of spacing out during the day, feeling the hurt inside from memories of panic, looking at all of the blissfully ignorant faces at my job, knowing they don't know what today is.
To quickly change the subject: I got the blog title from a book chapter of the same name. Name that book!
I cry out of hope watching Obama, thinking I would actually have more hope and inspiration in starting a family in this country were he to win the presidency.
I cry out of mourning, remembering where I was, what I was doing, getting ready to do, and everything I left behind three years ago today.
I cry out of worry, wondering when my mom calls to say she's prepared, why does she have to make it through another storm, why am I not there to help her?
I cry out of loneliness, of spacing out during the day, feeling the hurt inside from memories of panic, looking at all of the blissfully ignorant faces at my job, knowing they don't know what today is.
To quickly change the subject: I got the blog title from a book chapter of the same name. Name that book!