New Moon; 7:33AM. I woke at 7:27, knowing it.
New moon. A time of new beginnings. For me a time to sob uncontrollably, till the cats have gathered around me (21 of them now), trying to purr me comfort; even the chickens come to the window, clucking concern.
I sob, I cry, I take a break to wash the sheets, wash the dishes. A time of renewal, so I wash everything that isn't put away in closet or cupboard. The throw rugs. The blankets. I clean off my desk. I take away the recycling gathered on my porch. I take a load to the charity shop. I cleanse.
Cleansing myself with tears, but they're never enough. Always more. The heartbreak does not wash away.
A time to break habits. I've begun chewing my nails again, drinking before noon. Facebook games. Time to tighten up, to use the time allotted more wisely. To what purpose, the sad core of me asks. Why bother? The habits I'd most like to break are breath and heartbeat.
These cats (21 of them), they have no place else to go. I feed them and give them warm soft places. I've taken away any survival instinct they had. They --my responsibility to them-- are all that keeps me alive.
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