Girl escape.

Am I strong, or just busy? Or is all of this “busy” keeping me strong?

Didn‘t do enough reading this weekend. Paced around a lot. Slept. Should have cleaned and done other things.

My dad might come home Tuesday even though he still requires 24 hour care. I don’t understand how this will work.

My biggest fear is coming home and finding him dead or collapsed on the floor. Would I survive that? I hate all of this. As much as I complain about living… Dying is so much more inconvenient.

Mallory is cuddled next to me now. She’s my peace. I paid the mortgage this weekend. What an adult thing to do. I prepared a scant amount of food. It made me feel less hazy and inadequate.

“I wanted you to know that I love the way you laugh... you’ve gone away, you don’t feel me here anymore.”

- Broken by Seether

(I hate the word broken. Only even people are broken. The rest of just get bent like Gumby. Until we are dead and can’t bounce back.)

But that’s the song of the day. Men could have sang that song to me before. I’ve been loved by a few. And I loved them back, more or less. Statistically, someone will come next. I think about love because it is the quintessential girl escape.

So that was my brain tonight. I should sleep now. I have prayed for certain dreams to stop. They aren’t even bad dreams. They are dreams so good that they hurt.

I hope it gets better.