My illness keeps me housebound, except for the odd occasion when I feel well enough to go out with friends or when I have medical appointments. Being stuck at home as much as I am, I spend a lot of time online. It’s how I stay connected to the world and keep track of what’s happening daily. It’s also how I get a glimpse into the lives of others. I know that sounds voyeuristic, but I mean it in the best way possible. Whether it’s reading news articles, watching videos, or reading other people’s personal blogs, I see so much – and I’m certain more than they sometimes want to reveal – about who they are.
One of the blogs I follow is ‘Kaffe con leche’, which is written by a young woman originally from Sweden, Maria Repa, who now lives in Bolivia with her daughter and soon-to-be ex-husband. Even though English is not her native language, the rawness of emotion in her posts caught my attention. I think I was most drawn in to her writing because I could relate to her sadness and longing for emotional support and connection, and her desire to fill what she calls the voids in her life. I can also remember myself as that once insecure 30-year-old, trying to define herself and make the best out of what the world was offering.
Yesterday as I was catching up on posts from Maria’s blog, one of her recent posts, ‘And then the night comes’, lit up my brain. I had to write her a response. I did it the only way I can when I’m struck by so much emotion: with a poem. I hope my words help her feel a little less lonely and more aware that she is connected to the world in more ways than she realizes.