I think too much; I’ve always been told. I know it’s true but I know not how to change it. I know thinking has made me a better person in some ways but mostly it has made me a person who lives too much in her thoughts and not so much in the real world.
Right now is a tough time. A very tough time for the both of us. I hesitate to name it ‘the toughest time ever’ for who knows what else life has in store. Morbid much? Perhaps. The sheen of cheery optimism has been replaced with the recalcitrant grime of dull apprehension.
I see the world. I see an old couple sitting on a weathered bench, their wrinkly, gnarled hands knotted up in each others. I see a young mother wheel her baby in a stroller on a sunlit morning, as her little daughter skips along humming a nursery rhyme. I see the weary trudge of the grocery store attendant as he monotonously scans items and asks everyone if they need a bag today. I see my neighbor and her always-angry little dog walking in the afternoon, one emptied of spirit and the other unable to leash it within. I see always my husband’s face as he sleeps, early in the morning when the sun is yet to scream through the drapes and I notice his furrowed brow and his balled up fist.
I see it all yet I remain far removed. I try to touch it all but my hand hits empty, vacuous air.