Monday, Monday.

I was fine.

I had a carefully constructed equilibrium of determination and emotion. The edge was fine and honed. Life was about tasks. My friends treated me with care and concern. I shared what I could, and when I descended into despair, I stayed until I pulled myself out again and did the laundry.

Then someone touched me. Someone looked at me, rather, into me. Someone held me close. Someone reached in and caressed the most tender and neglected part of me, and it loosened up and opened to receive him. And for a little while, I simultaneously felt my profound loneliness and its fulfillment in his intimate presence.

But now I'm back on my own. And like a cracked egg, the sadness oozes and gunks every surface.

Well, I have too much to do to dwell in the squalid reality of my life. I'll give myself today to rest. Then it's Tough Girl all the way until I get it done, and hope that the next time I'm touched like that, I can stay there as long as I want.