Getting it Out

[dreamcatchings]

I sometimes feel like I gave you everything I had, all that there was of me, everything I wanted to be and wanted to do, everything bright and shiny and good. I wrapped it all up in you. I wrapped everything that ever was or will be me up in you. So that when you walked away, I was left with nothing to offer anyone. There's not even anything left to offer myself. If I pause and think, pay attention and feel, that hole in me resounds with the noise of the pebbles I toss down it, trying to fill the void and not getting any closer to being whole. I echo in the darkness. I reflect the light of the sun that once was bright. I am this broken, empty thing that seems to barely survive.

My supervisor has a work/life goal spreadsheet thing he wants us to do as an exercise. I can't. I can't bring myself to do it. The only thing I want is to not be miserable. I can't write that down for my supervisor so I don't do it. I just work. I just work on everything I can get my hands on, and I try not to think or feel anything real at all.