keeping it real

eat my scabs
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I am not always strong, courageous or peaceful.  

Yesterday was terrible.  I woke up in a good mood, made breakfast and took our daughter to school.  

Less than 10 minutes after walking through the door Mr. Scabs said something, then I said something, then he said something, then I said some more really mean things.  Insanity had taken over (remember her).  We were all out brawling!  Both of us hurt.  

We walked away, slammed doors, silent treatment, more mean things said, crying, blaming, sarcasm and before we knew it, it was time for dinner.  My eyes hurt from bawling, my face was swollen and my heart ached.  

It's like I was back on the bitter battlefield!

Mr. Scabs gathered the children and took them out to eat.  I stayed home.  

The silence was warm.  Cessation.  What had sparked this implosion of dramatic brawling and why couldn't I let it go?  I felt delirious, like slitting my wrists (not literally).  I couldn't pin-point why I was so hurt and so crazy.  

As the night drew in, we made some kind of uneasy, exhausted peace.  Mr. Scabs took my feet in his hands.    Smoothing lotion on my tired heels and loving me the best way he knows how.  After all the cruel things I had spewed in his direction, his eyes softened and his touch healed me.  Tears kept leaking from my eyes and a different kind of emotion overtook me.  

I felt his love and I felt vulnerable to it.

Today, I woke up feeling like a jerk.  Emotions were raging so high yesterday, I didn't notice the tell-tell signs; bloating, excessive chocolate craving, cramping, hormonal moodiness.  

I gave my heart-felt apology to Mr. Scabs.