Alone on a Sunday

it can be pretty lonely in the desert. 

out here i'm surrounded by aliens pretending to be family.

i feel drained, a stranger in an even stranger land.

they make me feel abnormal, foreign, different, unwelcome.

i retreat, dissect myself, feel inadequate, little.

in rare and wonderful moments i remember good times with family.

laughter at grandma's in her basement, raucous giddy laughter of two pre-teen girls holed up in the bedroom giggling at everything and nothing, while being admonished by strict parents threatening voices from the livingroom.

reconnecting is always wonderful.

we meet over sushi, four grown beautiful women, all with stories and hugs to exchange.  laughter, oh the laughter...so soothing.

sharing, talking, eating.  i dont want the night to end.

we meet rarely, but when i leave i am reminded that i am not alone in this world.

this family is my normal.

i embrace it and am warmed by it.

normal.