Warning! Angst to follow.

[bloodsong1]

When I cry, I cry alone.
No one needs to see tears of frustration or self-pity.
Not my son, not my husband, not my friends.
Even if it's because of them I cry.
No, I must cry alone.
It will not do to burden them.
Call me selfish.
Call me self-less.
Call me whatever.
I cry alone.

I have no private place here.
I didn't realize how much I crave it.
All I need is time.
I hate the limbo of in-between.
Yet here I am, stuck again.
So I cry alone.

I miss my husband.
I know I can survive this.
I know I am strong.
Yet somehow, being alone a city away was easier.
Here I am supposed to be with family.
A family that must be tiptoed around because of sleeping schedules.
A family that will not hesitate to criticize me, yet I am hesitant to do the same because, after all, it's THEIR house.
A family that will defer to me as mother of my son, yet are willing to step in when requested or feel compelled to.
A family that I trust more then my blood relatives, but not as much as I trust Wolf.
A family that has its own obssessions and issues.
I do not fully understand this family.
I do not feel like I am family here.
So I cry alone.

I am not alone, but I am lonely.
I do not wish to come across as weak or childish or manipulative or "emotional female".
So I cry alone, in the bathtub, in front of a computer screen, and my heart bleeds for my mate.

I am between houses, but not fully at home.
I am anti-social, yet have chosen to move into a community.
I want to go home.
This will be my home.
My home, with my husband and my son and my cat. Not "our" home, with third-shifters and two dogs and freezing temps.
This could very well be a big mistake.
We are committed.
We will make this work or simply bide our time and find our own place.
I cry alone.