RANDOM DIARY ENTRIES

--So keep breathing deeply and slowly.


--And you can write about anything--things that may have happened or that may have frightened you or made you uneasy in the past--there's nothing here that can hurt you.


--I was pushing the stroller...it's cloudy.  I'm thinking--I remember thinking "the sky is gray and it's colder than I thought it would be."


--It was late February.


--It was such a cold winter.  I hate the cold.  The weather...the weather makes me sad.  Since that day the cold just depresses me.  I just want to hide fr---I can see the cold.  I can see other people hiding in their coats.  I see their breath, clouds around their mouth.  I guess I feel it but I'm only thinking about getting Alice bundled in her stroller.  I'm trying to get the blankets around her legs.  We had this faux bear-skin blanket she loved.  She loved...


--I can see her face.  Such sweetness, oh...


--She was being a pest.  I remember that now.  She kicked her legs.  I can only see her smiling though.  Isn't that funny?  


--There was a bird our backyard.  She lost her eggs.  I could see them there on the ground under the tree.  Broken---


--I was wrapping her legs with the blanket.  I'm talking to her.  Telling her about the park and what we were going to do there.  And she's smiling.  She's squirming in her seat; under the seatbelt.  But I'm talking to her and she's smiling.  Now.  So sweet.  And I see him out of the corner of my eye.  


--He's wearing a dark coat.  I can't see a face.  I can't--


--Can I just say!  The bird.  The mother bird.  She was up there tending the nest.  Doesn't she KNOW they're gone?


--I CAN'T SEE THE FACE.  I'm talking to him.  I'm looking right at him.  Right up at him.  I'm not looking at her anymore.  Only him.  I feel my hands still working the blankets around her legs.  I feel them under my hands now.  The warmth...the bones.  


--"..."


--I only looked as the legs slid through my hands.  Why...what was he doing?  I'm tangled in the stroller and she's smiling at me...she's not crying...not squirming, just smiling as he carried her away.  


--Now I'm laying on my back watching the bird; watching her, absurdly moving the sticks around the nest.  I'm laying here on the ground beneath her with yoke in my hair...


--love is a river.  where does the water come from?  where does it go?  why won't it stop flowing?