Bear with me, please. in Secrets from myself

I tried to write in the other place, my love, the place that owns me, that I own, and I couldn't. Twice now. Last night and this morning. It's there. But I am locked out. I am losing a lover. It's a slow, gradual loss. The days he smiles at me give me hope. But the days and nights he looks the other way, when he won't return my calls, when I see him with other women, those are the times I know I am losing him. I want to give up. I want to pretend he never meant anything to me. I want to pretend my life, seen through him, did not exist.

No matter what, this is second best. I'll never be able to come here to get warm. I'll never be able to feel myself in the big world. I will always be a visitor.

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Enough of that shit.

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I went upstairs a while ago. You know my house. It's big and old and inconvenient and stuffed with trash. Yeah, that's my house. I went upstairs looking for my purple coat. I rarely go upstairs so it's an adventure when I do. I didn't go in the cobweb room. And the room(s) my son lives in are hard to navigate. The room away son sleeps in when he's here is super neat. He is super neat. The middle room is pretty good too. The room that I used to call mine is a store room you can walk into. It has stuff in it. Stuff that has been culled and saved by away son, I guess. He's the one who cares about open space and being able to walk into a room. My mother's rabbit skin coat is still there. And the red wing water cooler. I didn't see my wedding dress but I suppose it's still there.

I didn't find my purple coat. I will look in the seasonal clothes cardboard box in my room, it might be in the bottom.

Today is today. Welcome it. Hold it in the palm of your hand. Regret almost nothing.