Moments in Time.

With the Internet the way it is now, I've forgotten to capture moments. Real, true, honest moments. I try to not curate the way my life is seen online but I do. We all do. I think about the way whatever it is I am sharing will be perceived, I think about what I'm saying, how I look or how I think people think I look. It's not natural. I've always considered myself a truth teller and a people pleaser. That's an oxymoron but it's a really good definition of who I am.

These raw moments, they slip by so fast, so unnoticed. It's there and you wish you would have captured it but then it's gone and you're left with a fleeting memory. I don't want to lose those anymore.

I've easily detached myself from my past - my unstable childhood, my hellish teen years, my eventual freedom and learning how to be a functioning adult and making far too many mistakes. I dismiss toxic people, I block out trauma. It's my defense mechanism. You don't want to be my friend, ok, good bye. You don't want to be my mom, ok, best of luck to you. But deep down, it's all still attached, these relationships, these moments, with tiny spiderweb threads. I am bound by them. So, against everything that is natural to me I want to embrace them all. The good moments, the bad moments, this moment.

Sitting in bed while Doug takes a nap, foster kittens climbing on top of each other after a bottle feeding. My hair is tied up in a old, old scarf and I'm wearing my favorite overalls and a raggedy white tee shirt. There is so much to do, so many chores and projects and jobs to finish up. We're broke again, Septembers are always hard. I miss my mom. I feel guilty for eating that breakfast burrito. I wish my house was clean. I wish we had all of our orders shipped. I'm thirsty and I want to smoke a cigarette.

I wish I could freeze this moment in time, this peaceful, perfect sliver of a moment. Afternoon sun on Doug's face, this man, this unreal angel, breathes heavily, half asleep. He asks me the time and I tell him, but he doesn't respond so I know he's really sleeping now.

Most days I beat myself into the ground thinking about how much of a better person I could be. I'm too tired for that today. I'm going to will myself to make a pot of coffee, and get back to work and keep this perfect moment locked away in my brain forever. I may be a little broken, but I am whole.


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