Wounded Bird

Wounded Bird

Last night - 09/28

Dear Clint

I lay in bed and sobbed and begged you to come home, but you didnt. You can't . I can't have you any more. I am lost and sad and sick inside and I want you back. Please come home to me. Please. My heart is broken, bruised beyond repair. I cannot do this. I say all the right things, but I know in my gut that I can't do this. Even Sweet Wil is worried. You just have to come home, in some way you have to be here with me. I dont' know what that means I just know I can't do this alone. Come to me in any way you can. The fountain sings to me and makes me smile, but it's not you. I have new fall plants in the old rusty planters. You would laugh and laugh. I am so fucking sad right now, I don't know what to do. What happened between two hours ago and now? Who took my happiness, where did it go? Was it the stupid Nantucket light? No. Was it all the superglue I got all over my hand when I tried to fix it? No. That was just stupidity to try to put it back together when I dropped it. It works now, for what that's worth. Was it the email from Wil, darling 15 year old Wil who is worried about me? He's 15 fucking years old, and he's worried about ME? Was it Mili's sparrows? They tore another hole in my already broken heart. I haven't been able to stop sobbing since I saw those poingnant photos of those precious little birds, living beings, loving and grieving. I feel like a wounded bird. Every time I think I have found some balance, a springboard from which to launch out of this misery, I fall back down into this pit of misery, rivers of tears and snot and aching eyes and head. I get so disappointed when I think I've made some progress and then I lose my way.

This morning - 09/29

I am better. It's cool on the deck and my head is clear. Despair is sometimes too much to handle, and I go nuts. I CAN do this, but I suppose despair will overcome me from time to time, even this far into the process. I am going to try to find the link to the email Mili sent me about the birds. I want all of you to see it. It's Clint and me. (Later) decided to forward the email about the sparrows to you. I never could figure out how to add it to this page