29 Kasým 2020, Pazar
saat: 23:09
Something is wrong. I believe I would like to cry. There is a great utility to crying, but I cry so little + even less often than I say to others. I of course teeter on an edge but then I begin to self-soothe or repress or repress + seIf-soothe. I believe I am very tired. Ten hours alone, alone except for spreadsheets + the last three hours spent hunched over a table making sure all documentation is done + done correctly. It’s been a long week. I wonder what has happened while I’ve been running myself like I have. A, with all his compassion and worry, says he feels as if he has been neglecting me, but I’m the one neglecting him.
I would like to cry. I can get to the part where you are beginning to - that moment where it all feels stuck in the throat - + then my hand drops down again, away from my face, + my head shoots up. I don’t do it consciously.
I have been tired of grading this past week. I’ve been going + going + going despite that. I have work on a manuscript to focus on tomorrow. An interview to set up with someone for an article that needs written. I am sure there is more. There is more. But I don’t want this to become my list.
I would just really like to cry. I would just really like to be someone stronger or as strong as who is next to me, he's the one who can make me feel it is safe right now to take my tears from my eyes. Right now even the atmosphere feels as if it hinges on my legs never buckling. I regress to my island. I have to be pulled off of it + into the water. + all the people swimming in that sea are my people to watch over + so do not see me from where I position myself for the better view. + some of them feel as if they are drowning. + there is little to do than watch closely + closer. sometimes that is the extent one can offer.
I’m not deluded into thinking any differently on it, but knowing the reality doesn’t keep us from feeling disappointed by it - but disappointed isn’t quite the word I mean.
I want to cry. Sometimes it’s all too heavy. Sometimes I need to set down the weight to redistribute it. Tomorrow morning. We’ll move that to tomorrow morning. We’ll make plans. We always do. I talk about myself as a “we” as if there is something beyond myself within myself that I depend on. There is. There always was. + it is all there is.
I would like to cry, but I find myself incapable of crying. At least now. At least so much of the time. + so I will let the feeling teeter there at the entrance to my throat + I’ll fall asleep. Tomorrow there will be more. + with a little rest, we’ll be ready for that. The vitality will sweep back in. This is just one moment, just one bad moment where it all feels so at once.
