Finally

It was a dark and stormy night, the wind sending pelting rain against my shivering flesh. I was beyond cold as I tried to burrow even deeper into my thin, winter coat. Feverishly, I searched my surroundings for any sign of the prize I had been seeking for nearly a decade now and just when I had almost lost hope it appeared as glimmer against the horizon. I picked up my pace, nearly tripping over a tree limb in my haste. Faster and faster I went, now nearly running and I reached out my hand, my fingertips grazing the surface and then it was gone like quicksilver. Vanished! I fell to my knees and cried out in gut wrenching pain and loss. The tiny thread that was my grasp on sanity threatened to snap as I descending into a welcoming blackness.......

Pretty good, huh! Unfortunately it has nothing to do with the story I am writing now. Just some random stuff in my head that hangs out there taking up space. Let's talk about Christmas with a little background on my life right now. First off, I am 46 with two boys, Tyler and Justin and a daughter Jenny, who does not live with me (but I wish she did) and Andrew, my gay roommate. My husband is in prison where he has been for 6 years. Tyler is 15, Justin is 13 and Andrew is 18. I am not going into all the details right now, such as why my husband is in prison and why Andrew is gay. It is just not relevant at this moment. What is relevant is that Christmas is upon us again and it makes me sad. Sad for all the things that I want to do and cannot. People I want to visit and can't and dreams that I want to make come true and won't. Some would look at this as a life strengthening challenge and I admit for several years I have done that. I am tired now of doing this and just want what I want. I want to see my mother and sisters and my daughter. I want my husband to be here and sharing in Christmas joy. I want tons of presents for the kids to open on Christmas morning and I want them to still believe in Santa Claus, that flicker of innocence and excitement alive in their eyes. I want to believe in Peace on Earth and Goodwill to Men and I want me to feel something, anything at all. I am so dead inside that I don't know what will awaken a spark inside of me. At first I just thought that I was numb to it all. The long hours at work and then more work at home, but it is not that. I just don't get excited about anything as if my dreams have died. Even though I know my husband, Darryl, will be coming home soon, that has barely gotten a rise out of me inside. Outwardly, I present the proper emotions to the world, laugh, cry, smile but it does not reach that place that houses my soul. Perhaps my soul has taken too many beatings to recover from and will remain frozen in place. I don't know what my answer will be but I have simple dreams and hate to think that they will not be realized or if they are realized that I will be to dead to care.