When I was a young girl, I frequently would look from my bedroom in that small cold house into the night sky with it's tiny stars. I prayed to God to send me a real mother. As I grew older, someone told me that I should pray for my future husband -- that he may be safe and well so that we would find each other in good condition so I included him as well.
The night before I was to leave for college, I sat at my window and I prayed again to whomever was up there. It is with vivid clearness that I recall this because I was so distraught and crying fiercely. I prayed to NOT go to college -- to PLEASE let everything work out there at home -- for my mother to be well. I must have cried myself into some type of psychosis because I CLEARLY heard a voice telling me that "This is for the best." Falling asleep soon after, I left for college the next day.
Tonight I watched a romantic comedy -- not something I'd normally watch. I tend to avoid them but my husband likes them. How ironic...
During my drive back to the apartment, I kept telling myself that I don’t need anyone because I am enough for myself. No one can meet my hopes. I think I may be a closet romantic. I started to suspect this a short time ago. So on my way home I just kept telling myself that I am not going to chase after anyone ... no, they will just have to find me instead. It does no good to hope and pray.
When I got home, I ran a warm bubble bath to the sounds of Louis Armstrong. The leaky faucet was spraying a cold mist into my warmth so I covered it with a cloth. I couldn't stop the cold but I could cover it. Yes, it may be hopeless ... I do not know ... I may always be that small girl pining at her bedroom window into the stars hoping for company ... damn ...
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