midnight

No one should live alone.

This is the winter of my discontent.

Will things look better in the morning? I miss my dogs, my daughter, the life I wanted to have, or thought I was going to have.

All those Christmas movies of happy hallmark families are a sham, and build up expectations which are impossible to meet, and in the dead of night terrible to contemplate. Fiction.

Some people's blogs are relentlessy chirpy, "hey, today I hiked 50 miles, and yeh, tonight will have my personal bottle of Merlot decanted for me by my own butler; having a great time with my brilliant girlfriend," or, "I have this fantabulous book I wrote and you should buy it, hey, have you seen my website.....etc. etc."
More fiction.

Anyone reading this will think I am always in a black mood.And so I worry that someone reading this will turn away. But isn't writing reality, or reality as we create it? And shouldn't we write the truth and not edit for some imaginary audience? What are the "rules of blog?"

But I am not usually in a black mood; it has been a hell of a year, and I just want someone to know I am alive, and wish so much for some contact. I was totally miserable last year, and know this time is better; people have told me I am better.

However, tonight I am tired of saying how great I am doing, I am tired of hearing about a new life, I don't want my old life back, but I wish I knew how to make this one better. Populated. I have taken to writing on a calendar contacts I have daily just to remind me how blessed I really am with family and friends for black nights like this. Pain is amnesic, and so I write to remember good.

Maybe it was splitting up the Christmas ornaments which did it for me, a tailspin tonight.

Whoever you are and reading this, touch someone. If you know me, send good thoughts. Even if you don't know me. Come over, give me a hug, bring me flowers, some physicality. "The night is long ere it sees the day". I need someone to curl around me, hug me, and value me. I need a guardian angel.

And yeah, to hell with it, and if I am blowing my chirpy cover of ennui and retrospection, I am going to post this, off into cyberspace we go.