unhinged once a long time ago i was sitting in front of the door waiting for it to open and it never opened. but on the other side was someone that resembled me in almost every way except that she was happy. and i waited and waited for the door to open all by itself. i sat in the corner on a wooden chair with a woven seat. hoping that if i sat there and thought about happiness enough the door would just jump open and i would climb inside the person that i resembled except that she was happy. that the way i was on the other side of the door would melt into this stranger's far subconcious like heated butter or collided sweat. that i could live far in the back corners of her happy brain, observing, without ever interrupting her of course uninterrupted joyful life.

and then one day a baby came. hidden in bushels of red hair, coaxed out of her warm comfortable watery home with plenty of drugs. and that little baby opened the door i was placidly waiting behind. i've not quite melted into this stranger that resembles me...i think i have interrupted something in her. holding babies have a way of stopping one's heart.
unhinged and there are two of them now. that amazing baby that melted me into a happy version of myself is two and a half now. she talks; she TALKS. and it's the most adorable thing. so sweet in fact that it brings tears to my eyes. 'whatcha doin' aunt nicole? wanna come swimming?' 'wanna watch thomas aunt nicole? wanna watch nemo?'

i remember when i used to talk with god about drugs. now i talk to him about my babies. i feel old now. but when i'm with those kids, i'm filled up to the tears with happiness. i don't think about all that stupid shit that makes me unhappy. but then i have to be away from them. and that makes me more lonely than i've ever been.

owen is himself such an edibly cute baby. and his smile knocks me on my ass. more cuddly than arielle was too; such an adorable smiley sack of cuddly potatoes. and i can't wait for him to crawl and walk and talk. these are the markers of my life now. i carry a small photo album around with me now and show them off.

i physically cannot be unhappy when i am with my kids. at least they will still be here the next time i come back.
what's it to you?
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