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A Pocket Archive (1)


I find myself getting in the car a lot lately with no real destination in mind. I used to hate driving and it scared me, so it's ironic that I find it so soothing now. It's also unfortunate with gas prices on the rise. Maybe it's because I'm controlling something and escaping in some sense. I never feel "here" anymore so maybe it just helps to be moving while I'm struggling with feeling so disconnected. I don't know. Today I even had an opportunity for a destination but I canceled my interview in Lenexa. Admittedly I have a lot on my plate but I really don't want to be near children. I love my secret dearly. At the same time, I am so glad they will never know the monster their father was. Maybe it's good when death comes in 3's.

Today, I turned down Clinton Parkway and kept driving. The park and the church I go to require me to take that route, so maybe it's habit. I turned right at the garden shop, and ended up at the light for K-10 and decided to stay off the highway. Eventually I ended up at a softball park, then an arboretum. I saw the fountains from the parking lot. It's pretty here. Not worthing of painting, but relaxing and green. Maybe I will come back here to write.

The man-made waterfall and fountain sound reassuring somehow; consistant and certain. I cried for a little while and a red-headed toddler materialized beside me for a second before her parents called her back. She had big red sunglasses on that made her look like a bug. Her parents led her away and told her not to bother me, but it made me happy. Part of me wanted to scoop her up into my arms and cry.

I've been watching a heron fishing. It's neat watching him stalk and pounce, sort of like a cat, sans the excessive butt wiggling. I feel a little bad for his lunch. God provides for everything but sometimes I don't think it's very fair to whatever becomes something else's lunch. A lot of this world isn't fair and there is a lot of pain and death that wasn't intended. But it's how it is. I feel a lot like that fish lately.

I miss My babies. I miss the lie that I thought was real. I miss feeling safe. I can't breathe and I have nightmares so horrible that I wake up screaming. And yet, I feel like I'm moving outside of my Stockholm's mentality and can see clearly now. I hope they won't hurt anyone else, but I keep thinking of what Seth said too. It makes me feel hopeless. I wish they understood what it does to a person. But they never will; they seem to feel they can walk away from it with no consequences. I so badly wish I had seen it coming.

My body feels so stretched and it hurts more every day, just like the gaping wound in my soul. I don't pray for him anymore. Evil doesn't need my prayers. Instead, I pray for air; I pray for angels.

I miss feeling whole. Like a person. Even a stressed out grad student in a program I don't like.


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