My computer monitor turns blue while I am sitting in front of the screen sobbing. I look up and through hands that are cupping my own face as snot slides though the slats of my fingers. It’s the blue screen of death. My computer is going to die soon too. I can feel it. I can tell.
“Come on Amber. Pull yourself together.” I implore my soul to let go of its grip, but it keeps pulling me away from the responsibility of what life is when I am a grown up. “Come on. You can’t be this way. This is silly. You are acting like a teenage girl.”
My eyes moved to my daughter’s room as the voice within continued to make me right with reason. “What are you going to tell her when she goes through this. Do you even know how unattractive you are being right now? This love sick drivel is not flattering to anyone. It’s most especially not flatterting to him. Do you think he gives a sh*t. Do you think he is crying? F*ck no he’s not. He is happy. Now you be.”
I am moving my pictures from my hard drive before it fails. This process is one I repeat. One copy to one drive and another copy to a back up drive. I do this because I know that eventually one safety will fail.

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