Bored, lonely and all by myself with Maggie tonight and as I channel surfed I came across an episode of 'Sex and the City'. The Brunette woman was hosting a baby shower for her Red headed friend, when the mother to-be opens up a Tiffany box to expose a silver rattle which sends the brunette to a place she once was and ultimately resulting in tears and of what was and what will never be.
I found my self emotionally connected to her crying with her.
I realized she was devastated for losing her husband because of their differences in desire for children and their inability to have children. Which lead me to be devastated for losing my husband because of our differences and thinking about where he is and where I am not.
He has a girlfriend.
Is getting his education.
Has no daily responsibilities.
I felt stupid and sorry for myself for being so weak as to cry at a dumb TV show.
But I ate a bowl of Ice Cream, played some bejeweled on Facebook to take my mind off of everything, put my daughter to bed, wrote this blog and will go and try to distract myself with a movie or something - I have shed enough tears today.
I think their are only so many tears allowed per day.
I have reached my limit.
To Sleep Perchance to Dream...
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