Here I Am

Words sit, stuck in my throat... way in the back where my breath catches and the ache builds.

So many thoughts, so many feelings.

So much to say, or not to say. (Some things are better left unsaid, but many times prove I haven't learned that lesson.)

Tired. So tired.

Dreaded anticipation waits for me, patiently. It knows I can't avoid it forever, that I will retire from my frantic busyness that I use to distract me from it. (I can be very distractible.)

Good things happening in life don't erase the bad. Or negate it. They just share the same space.

Tension still flows. And builds.

Problems erupt and are solved.

Phone calls are made.

So are tough choices.

And sometimes dumb luck happens too.

Or not.

And the anxiety that flows and weaves around each particle in this existence plays me until I am worn and shriveled.

Tired and terrified.

And I hide. Cold. Shaking. Waiting.

Wondering where did everyone go? Her and him and her and them? And me?

That's when the loneliness hits. I distract myself again. With life.

In the end -- after the tasks are done,

tears cried,

bitterness flaunted,

laughter shared,

conversations happened,

books laid down,

camera turned off,

the last things tidied/put away/fiddled with -- here I am.