Lost Luggage

A 12year old girl can't do anything so wrong that she carries the blame for the rest of her life. No matter what she's told. I'm returning that luggage to it's rightful owner. I've already started. Recently there has been blame laid at my feet for something I had nothing to do with. That problem started long before I came along. She can have it back.

I've told certain people to "get bent". I would have liked to shove other things down other throats, but that just wasn't an option. I am, however, finding that I NEED to get my hiney to the gym. I don't know why I always forget how much I like burning off my anger through exercise. Though a good and angry tango would work too.

Broken

Promises broken. Hearts shattered. How to pick up the pieces? Most of the pieces are so small they can't be seen. I have a crack running through me so wide I feel like the Grand Canyon. I'm not willing to be vulnerable again. Is there a bandage big enough to cover the wound.

How do you find someone who will accept you just as you are? Including the broken parts. Who will love you for those broken parts. I didn't actually think it was possible to begin with. And one day, there he was. Smiling with love for me. But now it's done. The love is still there. For both of us. Life has chosen to bar me from that happiness.

Early onset?

I miss my blog. I remember the good times when I had something witty and cute to say. Or when I had something to vent about and the internet patted me on the back and said that everything would be ok. I miss that. Now I can't remember the cute things my kid does more than 10 minutes after Monkey does them. It's sad.