6.27.2006
It's getting better, I must say. The first few weeks I wanted to slap everyone who started the conversation with "So how are you?". I didn't know how to respond. On good days, I'd reply with a noncommittal "I'm okay...". On bad days, I wanted to shoot back, "Well, how do you THINK I am?". I wanted to be asked and I didn't. I wanted people to know how I felt without having to articulate the mess that was going on inside. I wanted the perfect balance of empathy and patience and kindness.
That was then. This is now. Now it feels like it's too late to bring up. Now the gap in my heart has been filled by cement. Now I get irritated by the daily, seemingly inconsequential, trivial problems of others. Now I get annoyed by those who squirm. Now I want the perfect blend of silence, consideration, and respect.
It's getting better, I must say.
That was then. This is now. Now it feels like it's too late to bring up. Now the gap in my heart has been filled by cement. Now I get irritated by the daily, seemingly inconsequential, trivial problems of others. Now I get annoyed by those who squirm. Now I want the perfect blend of silence, consideration, and respect.
It's getting better, I must say.
