Things are good. So good. Yet I am still not right.
There are milestones and careers and success stories and new schools.
There are open windows
and open doors.
There are anticipations, excitements, and things to look forward to. But I have started reaching for the phone to call her again.
I began running again. Running makes me think of my mom. Dieting, eating well, being healthy, being unhealthy, seeing grandmas, reading about people dying in their 50s, pregnant women, shopping, cleaning, lipstick, the vacuum, and the Gin Blossoms. Everything. It’s disgusting, really.
My anxiety is out of control. I can’t stop thinking about how Leah is probably dying every time I’m not with her.
Songs that have nothing to do with moms that have died make me think of my mom that died. I mean, songs that are
clearly about other things I think were written with me in mind.
Never mind, I’ll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you too
Don’t forget me I beg, I remember you said,
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.
~Adele
It’s just a minor setback, and I’m sure I’ll come out of it, but it takes a lot out of me and it wears me down.
God, I hope I lose weight tonight at Weight Watchers.*
*My priorities are warped.
.