February 26, 2015 - 8:53 a.m.
It's almost impossible to imagine this being a normal day.
I wince every time I feel like someone's eye contact shifts from greeting and acknowledgement
to a movie reel where they see what has happened,
like cinema,
the highlights of tears and blood
and I know this is coming.
And you brace for it.
And you try to figure out the balance of okay and hanging in there, so they feel less awkward,
and you don't burst into tears.
So you're always sort of ready for it.
You don't realize how many baby references there are in a day.
Abortions on Transparent.
Baby talk on Friends.
Commercials for Personal Injury lawyers.
Forms to fill out, explaining my absence.
Fuck you, whoever made that form.
What a horrible thing to make someone fill in
describing for a person who doesn't know you, or give a shit about your Family Medical Emergency
what exactly that entailed.
It entailed 'none of your business'.
Business as usual.
So I'm sick. Code 01. Illness.
Cause that's true too. I'm ill.
Sick at heart.
