In retrospect, I think I fell for someone who didn't fall for me. The hardest part is getting older and wanting a family so badly. But at least I have my job, and the ability to love on many patients who don't have enough love of his or her own. I always think, maybe this is why I found my way to this job. Maybe this is my calling. But also I still have so much love to give. I'll keep trying but it's definitely hard. There's this lump in my throat and pressure behind my eyes and I just feel so fucking alone.
I went to Poetry Daily's site today and the daily poem was pretty perfect for today:
Lisa Ampleman
Each imagined child is a talisman, Catholic scapularrubbing your neck, piece of felt you must keepin good repair. No, not that easy—they'rethe shrieks on the wind, a playgrounda half mile away and cradled in the valley's acoustics.
from the book MOM IN SPACE / LSU Press
No comments:
Post a Comment