This is not a drill.
I joke because it’s the only thing I can do to punch back the tears that are forcing their way into my eyes and now down my cheeks.
I have picked the glue off my incision. Luckily it has healed enough to not do any damage. I am writing to occupy my hands. Words will be misspelled. tough.
I hear my son starting to fuss in the other room and I hold my breath. Please don;t wake up. Mommy can’t do it right now. My can’t hold you. not because i don’t want to but because i actually cannot without physical harm to myself. but i would. i would save you. you have saved me. it would be the least I could do. some how knowing that makes me feel better about my self. I exhale.
Noah has run out to fix my mistake. to help save me in the 12th hour like always. i do not always need saving. but we all need saving sometimes. right?
am i alone?
i hope not. the page is getting harder and harder to see. i’m sorry but all hope of good words has flown away with my breath. my shallow breath. i am trying so hard to breath deep because that is what you should do, right? He fussed again. i have got to breathe more quiet.
I have typed this 5 times now. something about the pattern brings me calm. even if it is only for this moment. Shift, enter then pressing the number with my pointer finger on my left hand. careful. not with a fist. hand lay flat. touching each key like a piano key. the pattern is calm.
noah is home. i know he is not happy. no knight is ever happy after having to fight a battle. but it is done.
and the storm is passing
here i can be honest. here i can be me.