Westwoods

    Maybe its because I’m sewing a mint green dress, the same color of dress I was wearing on the picture when I was five holding my white bunny. I was sitting on the carpeted staircase of the old farmhouse where I grew up. The carpet orange-y red, the dress, rough double-knit but minty green, the bunny white and pink and not soft at all. But he made me feel happy and content. As happy and content as a five year old knows how to feel. Maybe that's the reason for this soul searching flashback, these triggers of tears in my adult life. I've done a lot of sobbing lately. It's not anyone’s fault, these triggers. I wake up with them. They are more frequent when Bruce is gone over long periods of time. I sleep less and less, my insecurities growing by the night time seconds. I am triggered to remember that long horrible night in and out of reality and delusion, the night my mom kicked my dad out. The night my dad left. The night my world was ripped away from childhood. The n...