unless my cats are there to welcome me. (unk)
I have been rummaging today and finding memories of Oliver. The snow is falling and as I sit at my desk the view out the window is much the same as the day Ollie sat on the sill, waiting to die. My heart breaks new each time I think of him.
I have sent the Valentines to Oregon and shed my tears over that, too. I saw Mad's friend Mason this week and he has gotten so big. It's hard to imagine what the kids look like. A year and a half apart is a lifetime when kids are growing and grandmas are old. I think about dying without seeing them again.
Lauren was here until three this morn. Drinking wine and crying. She thinks she cares so much about other people when in reality she is so wrapped up in herself that she has never even bothered to know me. How I wish I had talked to my mother when I had the chance. I have a hundred poems spread out around me that my family has never read. I want someone to care about my life, to read my poems and talk about who I am.
Nobody knows me.