If you are sad, be kind to yourself. Do what you need to ease the pain and heal. Cherish the little sun that still shines deep inside your heart.
If you are sad, avoid people who worry about you and pity you. Their concern is contagious and will only pull you down. Deeper.
If you are sad, turn to people who respect you as much as they care about you. The ones who won’t try to fix you. The ones who offer a genuine smile and a firm hug, expecting nothing in return.
If you are sad, cry. And laugh.
When I was nine, I started looking for bottles. In closets, kitchen cabinets and trash bins. Once I found fifteen of them, neatly lined up under the couch in the livingroom. Every find was a small triumph. And a big hole in my heart.
I don’t know how many gallons of wine and whiskey I’ve poured down the drain. Or how many times she promised to stop. Or how many times I believed her.
I still find bottles now and then. Still empty them in the sink. But she’s stopped making promises. And I’ve given up.
I can’t save her.
I walked into this year looking for love. Got sidetracked by lust and ended up with a bruised heart. Rattled. Confused. Back at square one.
He walks on, feeling nothing, like nothing ever happened. A family man.
The worst part isn’t that he won’t love me. I never expected him to. The worst part is his silence. Because I thought I was more than a body. I thought I was his friend. I expected some respect. Some compassion.
Yes, that’s it. A little compassion.
On the other hand. How could I ever expect respect and compassion from a man who betrays his wife?