I imagine a cry erupts from my lips. My wolf mouth howls into the night, wailing and shrieking, it pierces the clear sky. I imagine the limbs of the trees tremble, shaking the leaves to the ground. I imagine the squirrels hear it, causing them to scurry up the trees, cheeks bursting with acorns. It comes from deep within, from the pit of my soul cradled warmly in my gut, rumbling, empty, hungry, wanting. I imagine it takes flight, the wings of my scream catching the bitter wind and soaring above the city. I imagine the feelings and the cries that I release are one entity, it soars into the wild, gently held by a hawk’s razor sharp claws. My shrill cry competes with the city’s disparate monologue, crashing into the city sounds. Into the engines humming, the horns blaring, the sirens singing, the people talking, the music thumping. It travels endlessly unheard, seeking a destination, a new home, not wanting to return to the lungs from which it was born. I imagine this cry as I stand here silently.
Today my husband was supposed to do the rehab phone screen and finalize plans to go in, which has gone from a bed on the 17th, this upcoming Monday, to a bed between the 17th and 19th. Today he called and left a message as well as 2 follow up phone calls with no return call. Now it is the weekend and no one from admissions is there until Monday. Oh the agonizing purgatory I inhabit, every day he is not there, fearing relapse. The waiting is excruciating. I feel like my heart is in a dryer being tumbled around and around in a never ending cycle. And I am so just so damn tired.