A free night. Things to do. Wrap my boys birthday presents. Done. Roast vegetables and mix with chopped beefburger and eaten. Done. I was going to write my sons birthday card and I imagined the message that I would write within it's fold. "to my gorgeous boy... No... To my darling son..." as I just imagined the message I had to hold back from crying. His importance to me is my Kryptonite. I weaken when I express my deep love for him. I didn't write the card. All our lives are personal painting palette and each individual experience is a colour on the palette. Each person collects the colours which represent marriage, divorce, loss or some other strong emotion. I should include positive emotions but we all know that they are just shit experiences waiting to happen. With our colours we mix some together and create personal shades which become our personalities. I am lucky to have not yet collected the upsetting death shade. Also I have avoided the terrible illness. But my love for my son makes my brain see horrible outcomes at every turn. He only has to be out of my sight for a couple of minutes and I imagine that he is about to come to harm. Then when I don't have him I feel really out of control. In fact I am walking a tightrope between missing him and losing myself. If I have too much spare time I asphyxiate my brain in my self indulgence. If I don't have spare time I will cross continents to be alone. Our lives are canvasses onto which we paint with our collected colours. I am happy with my palette for now so I can do without any surprises. I want ten years of calm waters please.