senseless

there are things to say, but i am tired. tired of being the girl things happen to. tired of being leaned upon. tired of waiting for the break in the clouds that doesn't come. tired. and i'm hating this sixth sense of mine - knowing the answers to things before the questions have been asked, but never the right things or the happy things. nature's way of preparing me for the onslaught, i suppose. still, i find it to be a pain in the ass, in the head, in my heart.

my mother has breast cancer. it's early and the tumor is slight, but still, there are questions that beg and long, long road ahead. this makes a few generations for us, and i wonder what this means for me. is there an altered gene somewhere and if so, which one - the gene for breast cancer or for bad luck? are they one and the same?

i've spent a great deal of my life rearranging to suit others - their schedules, their whims, their burdens. it's a choice i make, sometimes out of love, sometimes out of necessity. it requires a lot of me - patience, strength, faith - and it is not always to my benefit. it is not, a friend reminds me, who i am - it is something i do, something i'd pledged to do less of. still, old habits die hard and i suspect these next few months i will behave no differently, though i wonder how much more weight a girl, even one with freakish strength, can bear.

(my mood is dark, it would seem, despite the lightness of the day. too, i have a cold, with the attending rib-rattling cough, and i can feel my pulse in my head.)

with as many difficult choices as it seems there will be ahead, i think it's a good sign that i can at least see that far. who knows? maybe this is just the way it's supposed to be right now. (lucky me!) the universe will eventually perform its magic trick and an entirely new adventure will reveal itself; until then i write with wide hope and a loose wrist and live with the fury of misfortune and delight.

and if that doesn't work - there's always ice cream.