I've been living. I've been happy. Often times on this blog, I have portrayed a person that isn't me for the most part. It happens because I usually write when I need to express myself. I usually only need to express myself when I am sad or sometimes feeling sorry for myself. Right now I am neither.
I feel lonely sometimes when I'm alone. I miss my brothers for moments every day. I react to certain songs or smells or places. But those things have been fleeting. For most of the day, I am me...the real me. I laugh and try to make others laugh too. I am the clown that wasn't forced to be. I enjoy my wife and my children and do the day-to-day work to make sure that continues. I get up after going back to sleep after taking my kids to school. I usually eat lunch. I may do a chore, but probably not. I watch television until I have to pick up my kids from school. After, I run. I run until exhaustion. I eat dinner with my family and they all go to sleep. I am left sitting here for a while, debating on whether to go to bed or to stay awake and allow some of the things that lie in wait for me to be vulnerable to take me.
Most nights, I choose the beautiful comfort of sleep. I mostly choose to be with with my loved ones in repose...to experience the unpredictability of the night with them in oblivion. But some nights, I let them all go away into the peace and I stay right where I am. I stay because I miss the places of sorrow. I sometimes miss being in agony. I miss it because they were there and I always want to feel them. But most days I know they aren't there and I want to be present for my family that remains.
It's not that they don't remain...my two dead brothers; it's that they cannot be seen except for a few.
Sing.
Migrate.
Thanks for reading...Z
