I want to write about crying, but instead I’m sitting here with this headache, trying not to look at the computer. Trying to get away. But first I want to write about crying, in therapy, about that time when I talked to my parents’ couples therapist and she said something about how my mother looked to me for support when I was six or eight or I don’t know, maybe 12, whenever, she knew that I understood what was going on. She looked to me for support, instead of supporting me, at six or eight or 12, and how do I ever get over that?
The crying felt good, crying in therapy and I hoped maybe that would help the headache but now there’s the computer and the sunlight and I’m here too long, better flee.