Here I am. Wrapped in a blanket. Long sleeved shirt. Sweater. Hoodie. Jeans. Socks. I know, totally crazy. The heat has been turned up for four hours and has just reached 66. I am shaking. But, it's not the house. I am either sick or emotionally worn out. I can't really tell. So, home I am. Resting. Taking off of work. Hey, it's ok.....I have a son that IS throwing up. But mine....I'm thinking it's the after effects of the weekend. Of STILL not getting the space. Of his hovering...waiting, though I've said to lay off.....he behaves as if all is well in the world. Wants hugs and affection. Forces the issue. Wounds me.
I do not know how it is that he simply does not see me. How I feel. Or maybe he does but it doesn't matter. As long as what makes him feel better happens then the world is good. It's weird. I can never figure it out.
Makes me cold and bone weary. Or maybe I have the flu. What a shame not to be able to tell the two apart.
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