bright young thing

i had every intention of sitting down to write, but realize i have no earthly idea of what exactly i wish to say. i'm exhausted. it's early, and i'm ready to crawl into dreamland. the dogs are sprawled out on the bed, and i wonder if they're absorbing my sadness somehow. or maybe they just really like sleep a lot more than they used to? but i'm pretty sure, they're being awful still... happy to curl up near each other and near me. parker is looking especially pink this evening. i'm wondering if dogs sunburn? and i'm sure it would've happened on a day at the lake, not a drowsy day at home?

i think we've all got some kind of separation anxiety. just wanting to be held. to be near. to hide out and fall asleep. easily tired. content just to lay still and stare off into space.

but it doesn't actually make any of it go away.

i'm just tired.

and the world is full of sad songs and cynicism. why add to it?

i mean, i'll say it when i feel it.

but for now, the dull ache rages on. and if i'm quiet enough, and laying down curled up tight enough, it won't explode into the searing kind of pain that courses through my veins...

just when you think it's feeling a bit better, it will sink in just a bit deeper.

you'll feel the sting of the threads sliding through the walls of your heart.

you'll feel them exit.

it was all so tightly wound in the fabric of my being.

and now it's being unwoven.

just don't fall apart.