So alone.

Another weekend, even though they weren't ever any different to the rest of the days when Tall was still alive, they now bring an extra loneliness. I think it is less to do with Tall not being here and more to do with the fact that it is only now he has gone that I really notice all my children have gone, along with all the frantic activity that occurred around their days off school. I miss Tall every day, weekends I miss everyone. 

I find myself scouring social media in order to live my life voraciously. I want people to tell me all the normal boring stuff they have been doing. I want to see their knitting projects or their photographs of sunsets. I want to know there is still life out there, even if for now I can only watch it from a window. 

I have tried asking people around  for a cuppa, but they don't take me up on my invitation. May be the house smells of dog and they are too polite to say. May be it is too messy and they are too polite to say. May be I make an awful cup of tea and they are too polite to say. I wish they would tell me why. Tall always said it was the people that made a home, not the house. His mother was a hoarder and so he was used to the organised chaos, he was quite good at creating his own sometimes. We were so happy amongst the piles.

So dear readers, if you ever feel the urge to say something, anything, you are very welcome to leave a comment, doesn't even have to be about the post!