Frozen

When you touch my leg? In the middle of the night? After one of our kids wakes up crying, fussing, coughing, and I've had to get up and calm, soothe, medicate, or locate, and I return to bed? And you reach over to touch my thigh and say, "I love you."? I always stiffen.

In anger. Frustration. Upset. Irritation.

When we wake up in the morning, I move. And I work. And I stress. And I function. Whether I want to or not.

All. Day. Long.

And I don't stop. Because I don't have time. And if I do stop, so does everything else. The dust settles. The laundry piles. The applesauce fingerprints dry. And even though those things make up a home as much as the laughter and the tears? And I've been reminded that those things can wait? I can't let them sit because they would drive me crazy. So I chase these things. Constantly.

And the kids are a force of nature who only know one thing; this is all about them and there is no room for me. Or you. And I get so frustrated that our conversations are interrupted. And that there is no us time because at the end of the day we're exhausted beyond belief. And it drives me nuts that when the kids and the house are taken care of, there is no time to take care of me or us. And I'm overwhelmed.

And you're overwhelmed. I know work is particularly stressful right now. That your co-workers/employees are driving you nuts. That your boss is meddling. That your customer is extremely demanding. That your blood pressure is sky-high. And that your sinus infection keeps you from feeling normal. And that stresses me. Because you're my rock. My absolute. My whole number. You're not supposed to crumble or be half. Because I need you. And I hate that I'm so damned needy.

So at the end of the day, when all others have "clocked out" and gone home. Had their dinner and are tucking themselves in, I'm still on the clock. All night. After being there all day. And I'm sick. Exhausted. Frustrated. Tired. Driven mad.

And when I have to get up? For the second time? At o'dark thirty? And you hear me mumbling under my breath on the baby monitor? I'm beyond tired. I'm on the edge of tears.

And when I return to bed and you touch me to re-assure me? And I freeze? It's because I'm embarrassed and positive that you can feel all those negative emotions just through touch. And I don't want you to know. I just want to pretend that you've been asleep all that time, blissfully unaware, and that you don't know how upset I am. How tired I am. How in need I am. Because I want to be perfect. And not needy. And not angry. And not upset. And not frustrated. And not tired. And not human.

I love you, too. And I know and understand that you're feeling for me at 3AM. That you care. But don't touch me. I don't want you to know how crazy I feel.