Elegance Of The Hedgehog

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Self-Portrait
Maybe I have given up on being happy.
My sister-in-law is expecting. My days are bitter. Motherhood startles me with its silent presence in me. Love has never seen more distant. Yet, so close.

He asked me: why don't you have dinner with me? I wonder: would I be able not to fall again?
Are you jumping the gun? I suspect: You just want a fling.
Maybe. Love is not for me. For us.
Let's play. My most beautiful essays don't live here anymore. Is it because beauty has left?
Or is it because I am just too busy to think about what is happening. I used to write long emails. Now I write short text messages. Maybe my style has changed and there's only so much I can do. 

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