I look up past the tarp covering the metal frame over my head. The tarp is blue and almost matches the sky peeking through the tree branches that are now beginning to decorate themselves with yellow leaves. There's sweet gum trees, and oak, and something that I think might be a persimmon, but have never got close enough to see if any fruit falls from it. Pretty soon it will be time to take the tarp down for the winter, and put away the folding chairs, and the cushions. I still haven't found a home for those plants yet.
At the moment, I'm hearing several noises--that of the music on my computer, and the breeze moving the wind chime about 8 feet away. I'm also hearing the neighbor's lawn mower. I'll be hearing ours once Dent gets home; I suppose our yard could do with a trim, if only to chew up the leaves that have fallen over the past week or so. Autumn is officially here, says the coolness in the air.
Tomorrow evening I go back to work. I'm a bit peeved they have scheduled me at night again. It's almost adding insult to injury when I open mainly only on the weekends (the other openers claim they don't have childcare--I don't buy this. More like they're too good to work weekends....)
I'm still puzzling in my head, about things people have lately said to me. People whom I have never met in real life and so should have no bearing on my daily life. Yet they do. I think about them all the time. And why they say the things they do. Things I should be hearing from people who are actually a part of my life, but don't say them at all.
..............Almost as if there's a piece of me missing, that these online strangers are holding on to, that I didn't know was missing. And unfortunately, knowing now that it was missing, I cannot reach it, either with the ones in my own life, or the strangers waving that piece in front of my virtual nose. It is almost painful, these things people say. Yet I do not want it to stop, because the illusion is often stronger than reality.
It is both wonderful and horrible at the same time.
There is perhaps a faint part of me that, having seen what others are capable of doing, hope to find it again, this thing that I did not know I had lost. It's a bit like pulling away a band-aid--there is something new to be found, if only you can get past the pain of getting there.
I don't know if you folks out there are really getting what I am trying to say.
But I know no other way to express it.