Shards

For as far back as I can remember, I have had a reoccurring dream. I am usually in some sort of social situation. It varies, but I am the center of attention. Always. People are around me, and I am telling them a story. They are all listening, intently, at every word. I am charming, and clever. You can see how they are fascinated by what I am saying. Laughing. Listening. Suddenly, I feel it happening. My teeth start to feel wiggly, and loose. They start to move with each movement of my lips. I continue trying to talk, and hope this will go unnoticed, but I begin to see their eyes drop toward my mouth. Oh God. It starts to happen. My teeth start to turn into shards of glass, and I have to put my hand up to my mouth, and cup it, to catch the shards as they start to fall out. I can no longer speak, and one by one, the group who loved everything I had to say, begin to walk away, with looks of horror and repulsion upon their faces. I am mortified. I want to scream. I want to run and hide. I want to shake them, and make them listen to me, and look at me with all the adoration in their eyes, as they had, just moments before. So what if my teeth had just crumbled away, into my hands?  
I write this diary of the life that my family is currently not enjoying as some sort of smoke signal to someone. Anyone. I cannot talk to my family. I cannot talk to my friends. It is a shame, and it is hidden away. David and I talk and talk and talk about it, until I want to spit. Now we just drink wine, and say silly little things to one another like, "It can only get better, right?" or "It will all work out". 
I am not so sure that it will sometimes. Some days, I am certain it will. Some days I tell that to David. I say.."it has to work out". Today I feel like I have a pile of teeth in my hands, and everybody is pointing at me , and laughing. But I know that inside of myself, I am just not what they see. I am more. 
We are more.