Lost and Lost again.

Lee thinks I should make a new record. He says I am better then all the other girls singing written songs out there. I am trying to hear him, but it bounces of my eardrum right back to him. Like a light my passion turned off. Sometimes I close my eyes real tight and inside the blackness I see the yellow walls of my childhood bedroom and I hear the karaoke stereo blaring and my stomach drops the way it did when I would sing the high notes, the low notes and the notes in between. My cheekbones tingle a little. And as if my mind reverts its not the sound that I hear but the dreams I remember having. The restless nights of sleep with my kicky legs in action thinking to myself, when will it be my turn? I gotta get out of here.

Then I lost my voice and did not try too hard to get it back. So it's gone. TTYL.

Today my friend told me that her friend had to have her uterus removed. And selfishly, the first thing I thought about was what I would say if I was her friend. And I could just picture myself looking up and saying, "I am losing my womanhood and am not even able to sing about it."

Loss is uncontrolled and that is what makes it so aggressively painful.