Disconnectedness


“I’ve been looking so long at these pictures of you
That I almost believe that they’re real
I’ve been living so long with my pictures of you
That I almost believe that the pictures are
All I can feel” –The Cure

So, I’ve been reduced to stalker status.  I had to trip on my own son’s senior photos on the freaking internet. 

I keep looking at them, but it’s like looking at photos of some distant relative that looks exactly like you. You know that there’s a connection, but have no idea what it is at all.  I find that it makes me want to cocoon up inside and afraid to come out.  The Best Buy guy has asked me several times over the last couple of weeks if I am okay because I seem quiet and sad, but I am in that place of everything feeling too big again and I am afraid of  letting even a tiny fraction of it out for fear it will escape and eat me whole.

I keep looking for the Wee Geek that I know must be buried in there somewhere, but feel as if there are no answers in the two dimensions that I’m getting. It feels distant and weird.  I see me in the pictures and I see a boy who is struggling to be something more than he is allowed to be within his confines. Is that too much to read within a picture? Prolly.  I know the boy part of this man, but feel disconnected from the man part.  He’s only 18 and still being hugely manipulated in every aspect of his life. No man yet. At least not an independent one with his own thoughts and feelings and convictions. Will this all seem like some demented bad dream to him at some point?

I know this disconnected feeling comes from inside of me.  The way that I have to approach everything until it doesn’t hurt to touch it. This feels like it will never stop hurting.  It feels as it the hurt will always be fresh and never scabbed over by anything more substantial than a band-aid.

I waited so long for him to be 18, and it wasn’t that I thought everything would magically become different, but some little girl part of me that still wishes for things, wanted that to happen and the big, sardonic, and bitter girl was not disappointed when it did not.  She even smacked the little wishful girl a couple of times for thinking anything different.

Be brave, dear heart.  Hearts kick in sometimes when our brains do not want them to, right?

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