Sad

My mom has breast cancer. I hate my job. I think my relationship is falling apart. They say that troubles come in threes. Well, there's mine. I don't really like to write about sad things, especially in these turbulent times when I know there are plenty of people who have it much worse than I do, but today I just can't help it. I feel like I don't have any friends I can talk to, no one to turn to but the page. Writing can be soothing, it eases the pain and takes away my tears. There is no judgment here, no ridicule for the way I feel, no awkward glances when I put my problems in the open. I do not look for comfort -- I don't like comfort. Don't give me a hug, don't tell me how sorry you are. The page is wonderful at just listening. I can be a complete bitch, I can be sappy or worried or stressed out and it doesn't care. It is not burdened by my troubles for it can see through them, to another day, to the future that I'm sure will be here soon enough and will soon enough become the past. Everything is temporary. My mom will have her surgery and chemo and radiation; I will find another job; I will fight to make this relationship work because I know he is the man that I love and that I want to be with forever. The page understands all of that. So, maybe these aren't such sad things after all. Maybe they are once again the troubles I've been looking for right around the corner (because I knew that things were going along too swimmingly), the worries I hadn't felt in so long, the pain I need to feel alive again. I'll go on with my new projects then, painting the kitchen and the bathroom, working on the book about how Keki and I met and how our relationship developed (much too quickly I think now). And in time, these things will pass; these sad things will be distant memories when my mom is once again healthy; I am thriving in my new job; and Keki and I are married and moving forward. Sadness is temporary; the page is forever.