“It’s not the wind that cracked your shoulder
And threw you to the ground.
Who’s there that makes you so afraid?
You’re shaken to the bone.
And I don’t understand;
you deserve so much more than this.”
- “Good Enough”, Sarah McLachlan

I’m not a very proud member today.

It really sucks when something happens to you that shakes you.  When your insecurity, long-buried, resurfaces and you feel so naked.  It makes me feel empty.  Like a shell.

And, unfortunately, my first instinct in an attempt to lick my wounds is to return to the hunt.  I used to soothe any hurt by just stepping outside of my own body for a little while and convincing some young man to take me to dinner.

I know this sounds so small and inconsequential, but Sunday morning, I spent the better part of the morning in just a t-shirt.  Around the house.  In daylight hours.  It has, most likely, been years since I felt that comfortable. 

Then, just like that, back.  Back to sucking in.  Back to insisting on salad. 

It’s not necessarily his fault, nor is it his to fix.

It’s a hurt that echoes inside of my chest.