Tonight is a nice night.
It’s quiet. It’s a comfortable temperature. I spent the afternoon putting my mountain of washing away and picking up after the god awful mess my birds keep leaving for me. My place is neat and clean.
I am alone. I like being alone.
Tonight I am lonely.
Yesterday I was going to drive over to my parent’s farm and spend some time with my family – mostly to see my mother and spend some time with her after her operation. However, due to my body deciding to totally ignore a week of my life, I got hit hard with a week-late period from hell.
Truth be told I could drive over to see them, but I thought maybe it would be better to go over on the weekend; the time when my apartment complex seems to become Spring Break.
I am annoyed. I am guessing that is mostly from the hormones.
I am still receiving a daily dose of nausea made worse by my craving for sugar.
I am craving the company of people I love. Not just people I know, or people I am close to. People I love. My boyfriend called me up right after he got out of work and came by to give me a hug but I found it terribly hard to let him leave.
It’s been a while since I’ve had a period like this. Usually everything moves like clockwork and I am barely affected – but this one, well, I thought I left ones like this in the past.
I guess it’s because I’m a little stressed. I want to be with my family.
I am also a bit pissed off that my brother, god bless him, is being a little stark towards my parents.
I get that he wants them to be healthy, he wants my father to be more independent (and by that I mean get to know the things that he should know), but my mother hasn’t even been out of the hospital a week.
I don’t care who you are; you have brain surgery, you get treated like a fucking princess (or prince) when you go home. I don’t care how well you’ve managed to come out of it all – going into a stressful environment is NOT okay.
I have half a mind to send my brother a message telling him to back off.
But he doesn’t know how to be that way, it just frustrates me that I could be there helping her to feel better, to take her outside or talk to her in the bedroom about things. To buy her some nice flowers and tell her it’s okay to put her feet up.
There’s plenty of time for her to get back into things.
Anyway, I guess that’s it.
I guess that’s why I feel lonely.
I just want to be somewhere I would be loved and where my love for someone could be helpful.