too much too late

I'm not sure how many times I'm expected to say... but this is my life. I've chosen this life. It is mine and I belong to my life, and my choices. I've never made excuses... okay, I shouldn't say never... but concerning this life, no excuses. Yes, I'm under pressure; yes, it is difficult; yes, I get down... but in no way do I use this as a reason to act like an asshole. I've never said, "you need to be nice to me because my husband is off fighting a war..." Never, have I brought my situation down on anyone but myself. Yet, some of those around me (and some that do not surround me as often as I'd like) seem to think I live in a glass house. Some seem to think I might break if one were to peer inside my windows. It's far easier to ignore me than ask of my well-being. So, the real truth is skirted around. One tip-toes so as not to disturb the delicate balance that are my emotions. Because, afterall, I am that fragile. I do understand, to some extent, the easy silence. I take advantage of this easy silence. I am not too busy to call someone... I just choose to not call. I know it's not in my best interest (in the long run), but in the short time it's less stressing to avoid condescending conversation, and listen to the opposite end of a telephone line, dead. The difference between myself and those I speak of? Well, I admit my unwillingness. Through my faults, I am stronger. In the end... I will know. I will know who was there, who wasn't there, and who is still there, and I will know who claimed to be, but wore a mask. I will know. There's no need for anyone to say the words. I know. Those I thought would be there... those I needed to be there, aren't. I find comfort in the oddest of places... in most unexpected places. I am thankful. Repeat after me... I am strong. I am strong. I am stronger. I am not perfect, but I am stronger.