I still feel a deep hurt. OCIA starts soon. I scheduled confession for Tuesday. My kind husband is trying to cheer me up. I have to remember maybe next time dc will be better, because my husband has to go back at some point whether it breaks me or not. I am already suffering from turmoil in my head. I’m tired. Hearing DC was just the last straw. I started weeping. I never lived in a place that brutal on my mental health. Next time we would live further out and have more money and maybe more places I can go without having to do parallel parking. Maybe I won’t be trapped – suffocated by crowds and traffic.
This afternoon while I’m in class, my husband is taking our daughter Mother’s Day shopping for me. I honestly want to be home, but an apologetics lesson will be good for me, and I can’t miss class.
The poems come, though haphazardly.
Life at Home 