ClevaWords

To think that you couldn't say what you wanted to say at the moment you wanted to say it That time when you thought I should just reach out and say and feel and explore this.  whatever this is.  this. To think you looked in my eyes and I stared back and we knew something.  We knew that we knew something. But you couldn't say want you wanted to say at the moment you wanted to say it. I never reached out. I didn't say a word. I didn't explore you. Maybe that time will  come back around, over lap in space  and we will have the right words, the right touches, the right something. something.

What if I wasn't alive? What if I never as a twinkling of anyone's eye? What if I never got to smile, cry, laugh, love? What if I never got to see my daughter's face or see my grandson being born? What if no one loved me? What if I couldn't take another breath? The What ifs....I'm glad they never existed.

I've never been much of a crier.  My sad moments have been normally just me locked away with music, a note book, and my thoughts.  I'm a quiet person. I'm introspective. I feel deeply but to cry, no.  At some point in my life, I decided that it wasn't for me. I don't know when.  I don't know where but I decided to suck it up and deal. My mother and my daughter are people of emotion.  They value their emotions. They demand the right to express their feelings at any given moment.  They feel it and you know it. To be a person like me around all of that energy all the time is draining.  I felt I had to manage the results of the whirlwind of emotions that just swept through.  I was the clean up lady. What was damaged by my mom's anger?  How could I help my daughter through this new episode of an anxiety outbreak gone bad.  How did I come to feel I had to manage other people's emotions?  When did I become responsible? I don't know. I...