Where am I these days?

Living my entire day in a parallel universe where you and I exist together.

Reality is far too late for me to concede that I went down the wrong path.

My parallel universe is a way happier place where I stand on the back porch in the sunset as the wind from an oncoming storm moves the tendrils of my blonde hair around my face and my white dress hugs around my body’s curves. You’re there sitting on a wooden step enjoying the art that is me. You make me feel so beautiful.

Reality is me, cleaning and caring and shouldering the brunt of responsibilities. I have to be glue and rubber and hard as stone. I am hunched over and aging and my feet hurt. I’m a maid and a wife and a mom and a friend. No one makes me feel beautiful here. I am unmovable with no emotions. I can’t afford to be sensitive when I need to take care of people who cannot take care of themselves.

But I know, whichever universe I am in, you’ll always follow.

It’s a sad thought.

A very sad, sad thought.