I’m feeling a little disenchanted of life right now. The fact that I am privileged enough to complain about this should probably keep me from complaining. But it doesn’t, and now I feel ungrateful too. Is it too early in the morning to be guilt-tripping myself?

I miss feeling like I belong with other people. I don’t have any claim on anyone, except my family I suppose. Maybe the Ralston’s, sort of, a little bit.

This weekend was fairly full. I spent some time with Stephen on Saturday, then Ryan came over yesterday; both days I worked on my feather quilt which has been on the back burner for about a year now. I have an empty week ahead of me, not including work of course, and that’s daunting. I don’t want to spend the week alone, but I get tired of asking people to hang out with me. You know, I get tired of a lot of this shit. I just want someone to hold me while I cry and cry, maybe rub my back or comb my hair or something.

No more – starting to cry at work. THAT’s never a good thing.

If anyone in Nashville reads this and wants to hang out with me this week, let me know. Otherwise I might just end up asking you….

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I'm a young, childless widow who is trying to figure out the best way to deal with the world in light of my late husband's suicide. It's harder than I ever imagined it would be, but somehow at the same time I am still alive and even happy sometimes.

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