I almost did it the other day. FaceTiming my dad I almost said those two words, "I'm lonely" but it wouldn't have stopped there. Tears would have flowed down my cheeks and those awful hiccup like gasps would follow in suit. I would be upset, baby boy would be upset, and my dad would have been upset.

My dad tells me that he wants to know everything. He told me while he was here that while I might not want to tell my mom something or other, that he'd want to know if something was wrong. The thing is he loves me so much that if I'm hurting I know he's hurting too. I know it because he can't stand to see or hear me cry in person. I mean there is a reason my whole extended family called me "cry baby" in Korean growing up. It'd hurt him even more to see my cry while video chatting. So, I hold it in, smile and tell him that the day is cold, baby boy is hungry or has to poo, that I am not looking forward to the 4 month immunisations and that I'll probably cry too during them, that I miss him, mom, and my older brother, but not about this deep seeded loneliness.

How can I make it so that the little man wants to tell me everything, the good and the bad, without holding back to protect me? I guess I have to be stoic to a certain degree when he tells me he is sad so that he can't see my sadness, but only see my compassion. So I ask that I may shed my tendency to cry it out and instead gain a strength to lift my own heart and my baby's heart out of sadness whenever the occasion my arise.

A cool breeze blows this morning reminding me that it's still winter and that it's best spent snuggling with my loves. The little man is bundled up in his sleeping bag in a lightly toasted room, falling asleep to piano lullabies. My gentleman is already at work, two hours early, preparing to enrich the minds of our future generations.

And so I'm reminded, while the house is quiet, that I am lonely. I can reach out to others via phone, e-mail, FaceTime, or other electronic means. But to do so would mean to disturb my contented lonely state. A state of mind where I tell myself it's okay to be lonely. That everyone is busy and living lives. That they don't miss me and I don't miss them. Life go on, lonely or not.

And so instead of sending out half hearted e-mails or start awkward, disjointed, conversations, I sit and mindlessly browse the net. I await the awakening coos or cries of my darling boy so that I can forget that I'm lonely.