Burnt

Picture Perfect

I hurriedly packed my things. Got my cellphone and texted my husband. "On my way home babe, love you." Sweet eh? Well, even that is part of the gruesome habit in my life. Don't get me wrong, I love Derek. The only problem is myself.

Walked fast phased into the elevator and towards the parking. Rode my sedan and drove home. My everyday "going home" routine is filled with stress as always. The roads will be all jammed with traffic. Horns, sirens, screeching tires and the occassional shouting of fellow drivers fill the silence. And somehow those noises give me a sense of relief because they help me deviate my grim thoughts and snap me back to reality.

The roads are unusually a bit clear right now and before I knew it, I am home. Just as I pulled up to the driveway a black truck pulled up at my leftside. He's home. Derek hurriedly got off and opened my car's door for me. Swooped me up in his arms and kissed me full on the mouth. I giggled as we parted and he put me down. "I missed you beautiful." Said he and pulled me in his arms as we walked side by side his arms on my shoulders towards the front door. Just as we are about to open the door I can already hear the excited laughter of Matthew our little boy shouting "Mama! Papa!" I smiled as I opened the door and immediately a small handsome little boy, cheeks flushed and eyes all sparkly jumped up in my arms. Just as so, Jane our babysitter, showed up with sleeping Sofie in her arms.

Picture perfect.

Maybe you are all wondering why I am dreading this place? You think I am crazy because I have a wonderful family and yet everytime I go home, I can't help but feel a hole in my heart.
I think I am too and I hate myself for it.