It’s past midnight.
The fans are circulating the cool air around the room
I can hear the humming of the motor
I can hear the light sniffles of my dogs
My husband next to me, his face illuminated by the moonlight.
It’s peaking through the curtains, His tough exterior has softened. His hands are rough and callused. He’s peacefully asleep.
Im still laying here, awake.
My mind is racing, wondering when I can regain my freedom.
I feel trapped most days.
I’m pleading with my brain to process my next step, to keep myself balanced and strong. Muscle memory.
I can hear the train coming, it’s blowing it’s horn through the crossing, waking the stillness of the outside world.
It’s been months since I’ve experienced breaking through the silence of the night.
Eyes scanning everywhere, left to right to straight ahead and left to right again. Miles away. Always on high alert.
The vibrations shaking my seat and shifting side to side.
The radio chirping, the engine howling behind me. Rumbling. The wind creeping in through the windows. I smile. I feel freedom.
A few more months and I can get back with my life, with my career. I never thought I would miss work this much.
It’s now past 1am, my dogs have switched positions and sandwiched themselves, one between my legs and the other pressed against the outside of my leg.
My husband has tossed and turned.
I’m wondering why I even wrote this but this is what’s on my mind.
I hope this little depression moves quickly.
I saw my X-ray the other day. It’s shocking still that I have a titanium hip. I know I have it but to see it, that was a mixed emotion. Is that normal?
I’m ranting.
Goodnight.