A friend of mine had used disconnect when describing the passing of a loved one. Specifically, your mother.

This completely resonated with me.The weird twists of emotions continue. Thought the twisting would be over? Yeah, me too.

Yet, I’ve also mentioned similarities to a sociopath.

I guess I feel? But, I don’t care.


To my feelings and yours.

Have you ever had a pain that you’ve gone numb to?
You feel it everyday and have trained yourself to ignore it.

The ache is still there. But, you’re used to it.

So many late night thoughts.

I cannot answer, “What’s wrong?”

I cannot explain my thoughts and feelings to your liking.

“I’m fine.”

Strong, right? Maybe. Write?


The wire has been snipped.

No service. Please pay <insert dollar amount>to reconnect.


Everyone grieves differently. I’ve heard most people are mad at the person who passed.

Mine seems to run in a different direction.

I’m overwhelmed.

You’re only listening and waiting for your turn to speak.

You’re wrapped into how to fix me.

You’re missing vital bullet points.


How do I fix that?
Get out of the house?
What for?

Wine? Beer? Wine. Cosmo? Let’s try a martini?

Nope. Don’t feel it.

Happy Birthday to me. Oh?

How old am I?

Wine? Beer? Cosmo? Still thinking about that martini?

Right? Maybe. Write?


What’s it gonna take to feel again?

Feel good? Genuinely good.

To feel again.

Who’s still awake? More wine?


I shouldn’t have to tell you to hold me.

By now, I’m out of breath.

Not interested.

I’ll do it myself.

The realization it’s still just me.

He asked, “Who’s looking after you?”


Strong. Right? Maybe. Write?

I’ll do it myself.

I feel pain when I sleep.

Or when I can smell her.

More wine?

Feeling anything yet?

Keep drinking. You’ll feel that warmth you’re longing for.

Maybe, you wont see her tonight.

Strong. Right? Maybe. Write?

Tears make this ink smudge.

How fucking appropriate.

Go down. Drag me. Hit me. Cut me.


*The Mom, my mom, passed away April 9, 2017.*

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