they pay to kiss your feet

since there's no one else around, we let our hair grow long and forget all we used to know. then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow.

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

The sun will come out.

I’m having one of those days I used to have in college. I think they were borderline manic. The down side of manic though, not the bouncing off the walls, cleaning frenzy side. I always start to feel this way slowly. It takes a few days of up and down emotional turbulence, which begins to do me in and then the only other ingredient is a slow, semi-depressing song. Somehow, I am able to find one every time and I play it over and over and over and then the words become my emotions and my thoughts and nothing seems right. And I recognize that I totally do this to myself. I get myself in this mood by recognizing it and not fleeing. Instead, I soak it in. I bathe in it. I scrub the glow from my eyes and the warmth from my heart. I sit and stare — out the window or at the wall — and I think about last week or about yesterday or about five years ago and the way it felt when it rained and I ran around in it trying to find shelter, trying to find someone who was home, someone who would open their door and let me in. And I remember the way it felt to feel so empty inside. But instead of remembering that I’m not empty anymore, that I have hope and life and love. That I have friends who would give anything for me and a husband who would die for me and a God that did die for me, I wallow. I know that tomorrow, I’ll wake up and the sun will be shining and work will be better and my back won’t hurt and I won’t have a migraine and I’ll be good. I cling to that now. Because today, I don’t feel well. Here’s to tomorrow.


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