Friday, December 30, 2011
Skirt by Amelia
He hugs me too tight and says; “Are you taking care of yourself? How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.” I reply too cheerfully, it’s obviously forced. Internally I cringe. I have no fucking desire to have the first meaningful conversation with my father in my entire 32 years to be about how I can’t seem to bring home another live baby. Later, my husband chides me; “He doesn’t know what to say, he means well.” I know this. I do. But I can’t help him figure out what to say anymore than I can figure out what I want to hear. I skirt around all the skeletons in our shared closet and lean down to hug my niece.
at 2:20 PM