As if in a dream, she floated along, pretending like she was doing all the things she was supposed to be doing. Sleep-deprived by her own volition, her brain felt like it was in a bubble, floating away with the slightest breeze, or worse, threatening to pop with the slightest touch. Where was her husband? At his travel-sized office, bored out of his mind, playing solitaire and occasionally actually having something to do. She wanted him home all day every day, but the bills have to be paid. 'Life doesn't always give us what we want, thank goodness.' She heard that thought drift through her mind and watched it like it was far away, not her mind at all.
Sometimes it seemed like the only thing that kept her one with her body was the ache in her neck. The pain was her lifeline. The pain that shifted from a small seed, easily ignored, to a gigantic, impossible weed that could only be uprooted with great force, kept her here in her body, or so it felt. She knew that she should look at what that pain was, at what her body was telling her by planting that seed, but she didn't want to. She had looked before. Dug with her trowel, turned the dirt, cried at her pain, forgiven, loved, healed and thought she pulled the weed out. But the weed had dropped seeds. Seeds that waited patiently to grow with her own neglect of her garden. Of herself.
She wondered idly if other people realize that their pain is a signal? If they know that their body is trying to tell them about an emotional hurt? Do they realize that they can let it go with some digging and some love?
She decided she didn't really care right now. The rest of the world can live without her people-pleasing heart for a time. She knew she'd care again, but at that moment she and her apathy were having an intense reunion as she bathed herself in distraction and wondered, again, why such times come to call.