Let me just sit here while I catch my breath. Things are moving fast, probably typical behavior, but today everything seems to be blurry because of light-speed.
I'm in a dark bar - and here, things could make sense, maybe if I let them, you know? Talking people, clinking glasses, whiskey close at hand - let this by my hymn. It's holy, the interaction between me and low lighting. Between me and booze. Between me and slow, consistent heart-beats.
Last night, my homecoming was sweet, sweet sorrow. I spent the weekend with my mom in Wisconsin. It was an honest moment of serious thought and deep heart ache. And revisiting ancient pains. And celebrating a foundation worthy of complicated prose time and time again. Here's what I want to say: shit is messy and hard and far from static. Here's this other thing, too: Mostly, I have no idea. (But you knew that).
The weekend was good. And worthy of extra thought. I don't want to get too excited, but I wonder if this is what healing looks like.
or growing up.
We will see what my therapist says on Wednesday.
No comments:
Post a Comment