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Broken
17 February 2003 @ 8:43 a.m.
Music has been turned up louder than normal to hide the sound of sobbing. Handkerchief in use instead of tissues to cover the remains of tears. Lock on the door to prevent being walked in on. But my face is still red, puffy, and sticky and my mind is still down.
All I wanted as I fell asleep last night was for him to be there with me again. His smell is still on the pillows. I miss him already.
Pain is intense today. I feel like someone kicked me as hard as they could just to the right of my scar. Legs are stiff and throbbing. Hips have limited range of motion. Hard time sleeping last night due to the intensity of it all.
Please let the drugs get me through work today. Let me have the ability to walk for one more day. Let me cherish what movement I still have without being hassled by housemates or workers. Let me survive being broken for one more day.
currently reading: Temple of the Winds - Terry Goodkind
currently listening: The radio
