I once told you something that widows are not meant to express, well here is another one for you, as warning Universe Jayne has hit the mildly angry stage.
I am absolutely sick of being able to sort everything out by myself!
Now of course it is fantastic that I can sort everything out, however, I am sick of it!
I would love, just for once, that there be a man who will help me carry a bag or a box.
A man who will help me work something out OR work it out for me and just tell me the answer.
Bing Bing Bing- there's an idea! Just tell me the bloody answer.
It was so handy that I was born with a heart large enough to include that of a robot. A robot that needs no fuel, no batteries, petrol or water.
Sometimes I want to wear heels and say I broke a nail. Actually NOT to break a nail.
Sometimes I want someone to buy me theater tickets and collect me in a bleedin car.
Sometimes I want someone to say, it will be OK Jayne.
Yesterday, I had to take Mum to the walk in clinic as my own pneumonia (I'm not kidding) has inspired Mum to get a nasty strain of the flu. We were there for five hours. It was raining, so when we were leaving, Mum waits by the door as I grab the car to drive up close to collect her. A man who could make a turtle look young, blasts his horn at me because we are not moving fast enough.
I walk over to him and say:
"My husband is dead, I'm sick, my mother is sick and your sitting there smoking and tooting your horn."
Now what makes me mad is that I said such a pathetic sentence as "tooting your horn."
Me, whose favorite swear word is shit-bollocks-wank - could only muster up tooting.
I burst into tears and hurried back to the car. How pathetic.
Later, for fun in my Christmas Special double feature, I went to sort out the tombstone for David only to have the man ask me - "Was he ill then?"
What a fucking stupid thing to ask a widow ordering a fucking tombstone - was he ill then?
Look, I don't feel sorry for myself. Life is hard on everyone. I know I have to move forward and I'm doing that or is the Universe sitting there tooting its horn because I'm not going fast enough?
I wouldn't mind just a little bit of support though. A little smile. A little something to look forward to that does not include me doing everything.
And if any of you dare try to explain that my life is any different than what it is - I will do more than toot your horn. Give me a break and please remind me that I'm just a girl, who lost a boy, who is asking if she can be a girl again!
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