Walking and Talking Apathy


A shock.

I knew this was a possibility-the likely outcome, holding on to a tiny sliver of hope as hormones delivered in pill form raged within me.

I am walking and talking apathy, forcing myself to participate.

Photo by Kat J

My head in a fog as you tell me about your life.

Each negative test nudges me more and more towards an inability to care.

I want to plug my ears when I hear your children laughing.

I want to turn and run the other way as I see your belly grow.

Your words of encouragement are deafening.

I am completely and desperately alone.