I'm Still Here

End of the day. Exhausted. Just enough energy to scroll through my Facebook feed while the TV shares its stories and urges me to try the new, stronger paper towels.

I'm once again drained. Each sleep fills me up just enough to function and then slowly pours me out again until there's nothing left.

I'm a machine who blurts out commands, "Find your shoes" "Take another bite" "Brush your teeth" and wipes down counters, every single counter, with those even stronger paper towels.

So when their eyes are finally closed and they're breathing deeply: their small chests rising and falling under the checkered pajamas, I mentally collapse. I shut down and go into airplane mode. I can't pick up signals, can barely hold a conversation, and just want to zone out. I relish the feeling of lowering my antennae to even half mast.

But you're there, my lover and partner. The person I whispered promises to in a white dress that would probably now not go past my hips. You're tired, too, I know. We should probably connect somehow, somehow- but how? When we're both empty. Poured out. Just happy to be in our bed and not tending the garden we've created.

I know I feel far away at times, but I'm still here.

The giggly, joyful version of me is still here. She's just juggling more balls than she knows how at the moment. But I'm here.

I'm not gone.

I'm just tired.

In the meantime, let's just sit here together and enjoy the silence of the night until it's broken by a child who needs their back tapped in the dark. The silence of you typing on your computer, me scrolling through the lives of friends barely remembered, and the paper towel commercials.

xo Me

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