Life is not always pretty….

Just as we have experienced our long drought this past summer, and are still feeling the effects, my life seems to have become a drought of feeling, creativity, color.  Words do not come to me any longer and my eyes don’t want to look.  I am entering a season, I know.  It is a season that I have weathered before.  There are more lows than highs and it feels monochromatic.  I am tired. I ache.  If I cared enough, I would be heartsick.  My marriage is all but finished for me and I don’t care to work on the dead hulk of it any longer.  I am frustrated and tethered to a man who ignores the fact that I am ignoring him, who acts as though nothing is wrong and who refused to get help.  I don’t want help any longer.  I just want out, away, far away.

The only colors in my life are Michael and Samantha.  And for now, they are color enough.


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