Spiteful words can hurt your feelings but silence breaks your heart. ~ Author Unknown

I have been sitting here for nearly an hour, fiddling with things on the desk, stacking and filing papers, looking at the empty posting template on my computer screen in front of me. I don't know what to say.

I'm tired. Very, very tired. I'm lonely. Depressed, too, I think. All my close friends have come and gone, moved on to other parts of the country. It's hard to keep in touch long distance, so we don't very often.

Tom is in one of his silent modes. Weeks and weeks of silence, caused by the stresses of his work. It's like he can't do or think about more than one thing at a time, so he just thinks about work, talks about work and simply does work.

Sometimes it makes me wonder whether or not we have anything left to talk about about 40 years. Did we already talk about everything there is to talk about? I hope not.

And, my birthday is this weekend. I hate it. I don't like holidays of any kind...my birthday, our anniversary, Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas...it doesn't matter. I don't look forward to them because I feel like my efforts are pretty much taken for granted. I cannot count the number of parties or events I've planned and given. Birthday parties, Christmas parties, vacations, Mother's Day and Father's Day Barbecues, 25th and 40th anniversary parties and two weddings. But, I've done it all wrong because I did it all and I did it all the time. I tried NOT planning anything a time or two and no one else took up the slack, not even Tom, so I started doing them again, but now I only do them occasionally and with a lot less enthusiasm, mostly because after all the years of planning, cooking, arranging and cleaning up afterward, the whole process has wrung all the fun and joy out of any event for me. And, still, the other times when I don't do it, there's nothing much planned at all.

I celebrated my 25th anniversary in my kitchen fixing dinner for my mother. If you knew about my very complicated love/hate relationship with my mother, you'd know that I didn't really have a good time.

I celebrated my 40th anniversary also in my kitchen, Tom and I fixing each other dinner.

Birthdays aren't any different.

That's not even considering the two deaths in the family in less than a year and sharing my home with my sister for the past six months.

So what does this have to do with anything? What does this have to do with loneliness, depression and fatigue?

I need a vacation. I need to get away, almost like just running away from home. I need to do something just for me, without taking anyone else into consideration; without making adjustments to my time schedule; without packing someone elses stuff; without worrying about what anyone else thinks or doesn't think. Selfish, I know. Completely inconsiderate and I don't do that nearly enough. Correction, I just flat out don't do that.

I feel like I need to go somewhere quiet, even though my life right now is unbearably quiet. I know that doesn't make any sense, but it feels like the right thing to do. I want to go someplace bigger than me, bigger than my house, bigger than my city. I want to go someplace cool. I want to hike and walk. I want to sit in the cool shade and read. I want it to be cool enough in the evening to have a campfire and just sit, watch it flicker and listen to it crackle. I want to go someplace beautiful and majestic so I can fill my heart, mind and soul with so much beauty that there isn't any room to think about what isn't beautiful about me or my life.

So, I'm thinking about driving up to Yellowstone National Park. That's about as beautiful and majestic as you can get. And, I've never been.

Will Tom go? I don't know. He has work now and I want to leave before my birthday. I know I'm being selfish. I know it.

I'm going to take a tent, sleeping bag, pillow and collapsible chair and head out Friday or Saturday. This will be my last post for awhile...maybe two weeks or so. I will post updates to my Twitter on my sidebar, so you know I am alive and well.