There no longer seems to be any point in pointing out the pointlessness


Starting at 5:30 a.m., I watched my niece travel south. I was so envious. As the days went on, photos of their vacation appeared on social media. Beyond jealous, green. So green.



I took off an extra day of work starting soon and now I can’t handle it. I’m not distracted by the daily things I must do and I’m full of feelings that I don’t want to have. The day went so fast as I slept until noon accidentally. Another day wasted with sleep. I couldn’t understand myself, but yet I do understand myself. A month ago I was listening to those dreaded teenage years where I spoke outloud while recording my feelings on cassette tapes. “I want to be popular, thing, cool, but I’m so lonely.” Guess what? I feel the exact same fucking way which is desperate and foolish. How can I be feeling this way? Somehow I am. Over and over the years it goes. Gross. Yet I’ve been in this relationship committed to one person since 1967. Why can’t I be content? How do I stop wanting more and more? Why am I ┬áthe only fucking person who feels like this? I felt as though I should start the process of getting a loan to delete some of the rooms in my home. Dining room and living room first ones to go. Make the kitchen feasible. Make this place worth living. I fill up the bird feeders and wait for the Orioles to come. They don’t. I fill up the bird feeders and feel guilty it’s summer and they can find their own food. I want to see the black winged black bird. I want to see mr. and mrs. cardinal. Their presence is validation. It’s nearly 6:30 p.m. and the person I’ve spent the last seventeen years with will be home soon. A couple of months ago I expressed a want, a void to fill. I also cannot sit still long enough to sew a button on. Get the clothes off the line, fill up the fillings, drink a cold brew coffee, the towels need to be folded. What is that noise? I want to hear the summer noises. I don’t want to be bothered with a book. Oh. My niece just sent another suddenly-lose-one’s-self-control chat. Now they’re sitting on the beach. They’re covering a step-nephew with sand. Had his voice changed? Oh it has. I haven’t seen them in nearly a year. I sit on the couch next to their #NationalMuttDay dog who is twitching while she sleeps. What would they do without my help.





Sometimes when I’m in my car in the garage, I think of how easy it would be to kill myself and then I get scared. My womb is empty and I don’t know how to move forward.

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