Break out, wake up my lost soul! Return to the home within my heart. My crippled brain cannot find you. It cannot find me. On a plane, I stand above or below everyone else. I walk a space unseen by those who surround me. My labor of love, even they are blind to my loss. The children I forsake my life for; my blood, my heart, my dreams, my everything; they don’t know that I’m lost. Left behind, “the mom factor” died along with my brain. I no longer see love radiate from their beautiful eyes – that shine, the twinkle is dead. It died when I did.
On a plane, alone I circle endlessly. For moments in time we crash into each other’s space, mostly by accident. See – they don’t know. The link was broken and left unfixed, like so many things in our life. Tomorrow, it’s always been, “tomorrow”. The promise is eventually kept, his word always kept, but it’s always on the edge of late or barely slipping under the wire. The thrill of the sprint at the end of the mile? I never could figure it out. I like smooth running, everything on time and ready to go.
I wonder. I mostly sit back and observe now. My world. Like the old ladies we watched from the corner of our eye as kids (at 45). It makes me feel out of the loop, not needed nor wanted. Funny how positions in life change yet we fight to hang on to the child we know still lives somewhere in there.
I always blow it. Like a kid I say it the way it is and don’t omit the questionable. It’s not until moments later that someone tells me why the other is mad. I misspoke. Please understand the long term effects of a STBI survivor. Please Google that for me and you might understand and accept my mistakes just by understanding. I’m trying very hard. Right now I have chosen to just go silent. It’s good, it’s easier that way. Maybe if I find myself, which is highly unlikely, I will put things back together. Meanwhile, my plane is right here, hopefully our planes will crash into one another someday soon. Come in and live my world…
